Someone to Understand
by cr8vgrl
Summary: Joanna Tremaine has a strange past and a harmful future and the only person who can really help her is the last person she wants to be around: Nate, a member of Connect Three. The two dancers find that they really have more in common than they thought.
1. Someoneto Understand

Joanna Tremaine paused from the rigorous packing she had been doing to stare longingly out the window. There was nothing cheery about this day. Even the Irish countryside looked bleak with the fog and rain that was drizzling down in fine sheets. Ever since her mother had sprung the news that they were moving to Los Angeles, Joanna had dreaded this day. True, Los Angeles was where she had been born, but this house had been her home for twelve of her sixteen years of life. It had been her comfort when her father and sister were killed in a car accident. And now, she was being torn away from them.

Thinking about them made Joanna unconsciously lift her hand to stroke her jaw line where a jagged scar still resided. Every time she looked in a mirror, she was reminded of the night. She was reminded that it was all her fault.

"Joanna!" her mother called. "Let's go! We'll miss the plane if you keep dawdling!" The rebuke brought Joanna back to reality and she forced the rest of her clothes into her suitcase, trying to make way too many clothes fit into far too few suitcases.

"Coming!" she called and raced around her room to stuff the last of her sentimental items into her other bags. She ran down the stairs and out the front door where she found a very pleasant surprise waiting for her.

"We wanted to say goodbye," her best friend, Meaghan O' Connor said, trying very hard to hold back any tears that might spring forth. Joanna's other three friends, J.J., Simone, and Bridget nodded in agreement. Even though Joanna saw her mom waiting impatiently next to the cab, she hugged each friend earnestly.

"Don't worry," she admonished. "We'll see each other at feiseanna."

"But the dance competitions won't be the same!" J.J. pouted, his long hair falling in his eyes. "We won't have you to practice with." He had been Joanna's friend since the age of six and she hated the thought of leaving him.

"I'm sorry, but that can't be helped. You know how much I want to stay. I'll just have to advance fast enough to come to the All Ireland then," Joanna said, trying hard to stay strong for her friends. She had promised herself earlier that she wouldn't cry, but her friends were making it increasingly difficult not to.

"Joanna! Let's go!" her mother's tone warned that she was getting rather annoyed. Joanna knew better than to make her mom wait for her. If she did stay and finish the conversation like she had hoped to, she'd be presented with an extraordinarily long lecture on obeying authorities instead of friends.

Bridget stepped forward suddenly and hugged Joanna hard. "Do your best Joanna," she whispered. "The accident wasn't your fault." She'd been trying to get her friend to understand that for years now, but Joanna was a hard person to convince. Once her mind was set on something, it was difficult for her to be swayed.

Joanna smiled sadly at her. "But it was," she said, and got into the car with her mom.

As the cab disappeared in the direction of the airport, Bridget shook her head. Simone put an arm around her friend. "She'll be just fine without your worrying."

Bridget smiled at her friend but shook her head. "She'll only be fine when she finds someone who understands her." She gazed down the road where the cab had disappeared. "Someone who understands her more than any of us ever could."


	2. Someone to Care

Nate Black glanced out the window of the limo that was taking him and his two bandmates to yet another concert. He was the quiet sort, but he still felt slightly left out today. Shane was in a totally different world, blissfully unaware of everything as he texted his girlfriend, Mitchie, and Jason was doing something strange on his phone and kept making weird faces, leaving Nate all by himself, once again, with only his thoughts for company. He smiled, thinking how interesting it was that whenever he didn't want to talk, that was when his bandmates seemed to have the most to say, but when he did feel like having a rational conversation, they were off in their own little worlds, completely oblivious.

He sighed. Sure, he was the quiet one. The one no one really cared about because they considered him too serious. When people interviewed Connect Three, they interviewed Shane, because, after all, he was _Shane Grey_. Every now and then, some brave person would ask Jason for his opinion and then they would wish they hadn't, but if they could help it, they never talked to Nate. In Shane's defense, he often tried to bring Nate into the conversation diplomatically, but few ever took the bait. They just kept smiling those false smiles and turned back to him, usually distracting him by asking how Mitchie was.

And he didn't mind. Not really. Once in a while, he would let his guard slip and then he would feel heartbroken, lonely, and miserable, but as soon as he started to feel any strong sentiments, up went his shield and the world became just a place where he existed again. That was the way life had been for years. At first, it had been hard, but now, it was like second nature.

"Nate," Shane said again, trying to bring his friend out of his trance-like state.

Nate shook his head, trying to shake off the deep thoughts he had been having as he snapped back to reality. "Sorry," he apologized. "What?"

"I asked if you were excited about the concert," Shane said.

"Yeah," Jason interrupted. "And he called your name, like, three times." The complete earnestness that always accompanied Jason's scatterbrained and completely random comments never ceased to amaze Nate.

"Sorry," Nate found himself saying again. "Why should I be so excited about this concert?" He racked his brain trying to think of something special that might be happening and found nothing. It wasn't like him to forget. "Is there something I forgot?"

"Not really," Shane said. "I just thought you might have been counting down the concerts until you had a break. This is our last concert before we head up to Camp Rock for the summer."

Nate smiled. "I'd forgotten." The gesture lit up his face so much that Shane briefly wondered why Nate didn't smile more often. Nate had changed. He was no longer the carefree boy he had once been, and Shane couldn't figure out what was wrong.

"Did you happen to remember that Uncle Brown had lengthened the camp stay to eight whole weeks?" the dreamy look that Shane assumed at that moment told Nate that once again, Shane was thinking about Mitchie. If he stopped and thought about it, he really couldn't blame the guy. With as rough a tour schedule as Connect Three had, Shane had a tough time staying in touch with Mitchie. Most long distance relationships would have frayed and broken by this point, but Mitchie remained flexible and so far, everything was good.

"I hadn't forgotten," Nate reassured him. "Your uncle also said that they had added another dance category. Care to give us a hint?"

Shane shrugged. "Wish I could, but my uncle didn't tell me anything more than he told you." Shane grinned. "I did notice, though, that you're signed up for the break dancing classes."

Nate shrugged, unwilling to give anything away. "What can I say? I like to breakdance instead of break heads."

Shane grinned, happy to see the illusive comedian aspect of his friend return once more. "The music industry is that bad, huh?" he asked.

"You don't feel the need every now and then to bang two people's heads together for being idiotic?" Nate asked, mock surprise written on his face.

Shane shook his head. "Nope. I feel it every day."

Jason shook his head sadly. "You're both very violent," he remarked. Nate and Shane exchanged smiles and said nothing.

"Who knows?" Shane said nonchalantly. "Maybe you'll meet someone interesting at camp this year. After all, we're campers and not counselors. We can mingle."

Nate rolled his eyes. "You're not getting me to go on another one of your "mingling" blind dates. I've had enough of girls. All I want is to go up to camp, learn some interesting new moves, and dance and sing at Final Jam. That's it." The tone of his voice warned Shane that the subject was old and had been regurgitated too many times. He let it go.

After that, the ride to the venue was rather quiet. Nate's mood seemed to hang over everyone like a dark cloud, and he knew it. Why was it always him who tore apart the happiness? When he thought about it, Shane was only trying to make sure that he was happy. A part of him whispered that it was none of Shane's business, but another part warned that Shane was a good friend and was worried about him. He hadn't been himself for years now, and it was only after Shane met Mitchie that he began to notice and care. He should be happy about his friend's concern, and all he was doing was staring sullenly out a window!

"I'm sorry," he said finally. "I shouldn't be so moody." Shane brightened and Jason nodded his head vigorously, a goofy smile on his face now that everything was back to normal.

"No worries," Shane admonished. "Let's get out there, do the concert, and then it's off to Camp Rock for a whole summer!"


	3. Someone to Go

**A/N: Sorry, but this is my first story and I forgot to put a disclaimer on my first page. I do not own anything Camp Rock related. I only own the characters I created for the purpose of the story. Hope you enjoy!**

Joanna had decided that she hated Los Angeles already. After a twelve hour flight from Dublin, she was exhausted, and her mother's constant nagging was not helping at all. But, she took it all in stride. Her mom complained that she didn't move around enough on the plane and that her ever-dancing muscles would cramp up and wither away if she didn't get up soon when the reality was that people were starting to give her weird looks from walking up and down the aisles so much. But she continued to walk until one man looked up from his laptop and asked, "If you don't mind my asking, what are you doing?"

Joanna's first retort that came to mind was, 'Walking,' but she thought better of it and said instead, "I'm a dancer, an Irish dancer, and my mom wants me to keep my muscles loose so that when we get to Los Angeles, I can start practicing again for my competitions."

"Joanna," her mom called from her seat on the plane. Both Joanna and the man with the laptop looked back. "More walking and less talking."

Joanna turned sweetly back to the man and said, "That's my hint that it's time to say goodbye." She waved and headed back up the aisle. People in the same vicinity as the laptop man had heard her explanation and actually smiled at her, but others still looked at her curiously, and Joanna noticed that after they had looked at her face, their attention was usually focused on her jaw and the scar there.

At first, she felt her face heat with embarrassment, but she squared her shoulders and smiled at those same curious people. This was penance. This was the way she would go throughout life, never forgetting that it was she who was responsible for the accident that had taken her dad and her twin sister, her better half.

A stewardess stepped closer to Joanna and said, "Miss, we'll be landing soon, so you might want to take your seat." Joanna noticed that her eyes then followed the long path of the scar.

"Thank you," Joanna said politely. She turned and walked away, for a moment contemplating letting her ponytail fling around and hit the stewardess in the face, but then she remembered that this was penance. This was her punishment.

She made her way back to her seat and her mom looked up from her magazine. "Is something wrong," she asked of her daughter.

"No," Joanna responded cheerfully. "The lady up front told me that we'd be landing soon, so she asked if I'd take my seat." Joanna licked her lips, noting the cracks in them. "Can I have some water?" she asked.

"I don't know," her mother tested. "Can you?"

Joanna rephrased the question. "May I have some water?" She should have known better. Her mother was almost possessive about the designer water that Joanna had been drinking ever since she was four. It was supposed to help her dancing, to give her more energy, and Joanna had never protested. She drank at least ten bottles a day.

Since the question had been asked in the correct usage of the English language, Joanna's mom passed over another water bottle and watched as Joanna sucked it down. "Pace yourself," her mother said, and Joanna missed the smirk on her face. She finished only half of the bottle before she handed it back to her mother.

"You know better than that," her mom said, slightly scolding.

"I know, but, walking for almost eight hours is tough," Joanna said softly.

Her mom never replied because at that moment the plane touched down at the airport and everyone waited to alight. Joanna and her mom grabbed their bags, picked up their water and headed down tunnel to the baggage claim. They waited for what seemed like forever to finally get all of their bags, and then it was time to find a cab that would accept them and all their luggage.

This was a feat easier said than done, but in relatively good time, they were on their way to their new apartment. Joanna hated the word. Apartment. Her dad once said that apartments never had enough space to let yourself be free. A very good observation for one who was in the dancing industry.

As the taxi, for that was what Americans called a cab, pulled into the driveway, Joanna was even more convinced that she hated Los Angeles. The apartment that her mother had picked out was extremely shabby and not at all in good condition. The sidewalk leading up to the front door looked like miniature rolling hills and the places where it cracked looked sharp and jagged. There was actually what looked to be dried blood on one crack and Joanna guessed that someone had fallen and hurt themselves. Her overactive imagination took over and she wondered if someone had been murdered, their blood dripping down and leaving the only trance of…

"Joanna!" Joanna was forced back once gain into the real world by her mom's cutting voice. She hurried up the steps and met the gaze of the landlady. The landlady was a short, way beyond plump woman with rather kind eyes, but a sour mouth. She showed the two ladies up to their apartment and Joanna stepped inside the door to let the lady and her mom work out the price for each month.

The room was nothing. There was a living room, a small kitchen, and two bedrooms. Joanna immediately chose the smaller bedroom, for it was near the only window looking out. Her mom wouldn't complain since she would get the larger room.

Feeling like there was no time like the present to try and like this place, Joanna began to unpack. She first unzipped her wedge, a semi-triangle shaped case that held her dance dress neat and tidy, and pulled her dress out to hang by the window. Seeing a bit of her home once again, Joanna felt the tears start pooling in her eyes once again.

She ran her hand over the embroidery that her father had so lovingly stitched, saying that "My girls will one day grow up into beautiful women and will wear these dresses, and I'll have to use my fists to keep away all the boys!"

At the time, Jamie, Joanna's sister, had only giggled, but young Joanna had placed her little hands on her hips and had shaken her head. "I don't want the dress then. I don't like boys. They've got cooties or something."

Joanna's dad had laughed and had held her close, his cheek pressed against hers. "Maybe right now you think that," he had said, "but one day, that'll change, and then you'll want the dress."

The memory had left Joanna with a faraway look in her eyes as she stared at the beautiful forest green dress with its black bodice and intricate Celtic knots done in black. Perhaps her dad had known about his death, Joanna thought. Perhaps he had made her dress black so that she could mourn because he had made Jamie's dress in a beautiful blue that matched her sparkling eyes. There had never been any black in her dress.

The sweet moment was shattered when the door to the apartment banged open and Joanna's mom walked in. Joanna jumped and rose from the bed, knowing that her mom would find her if she wanted her. She obviously did, because she started calling Joanna's name.

"Yes?" Joanna asked, stepping out into the living room where her mom was sprawled out on the couch.

"Have you chosen a bedroom?" her mom asked, but Joanna realized by the clipped tone that this was not the question her mom really wanted to ask.

"Yes," Joanna responded. "Why?"

Her mom ignored her. "Have you started unpacking?"

"A little, yes."

"Well don't. You're going with the landlady's daughter to Camp Rock. You leave in the morning." With the bomb dropped, Joanna's mom flounced into the bedroom that was now hers and shut the door with a resolute bang. The discussion was closed before it had even begun.

"Camp _**WHAT**_?" Joanna cried.


	4. Someone to Hug

It was over! Nate sighed with relief as he leaned back on the couch in the tour bus. Now, if he could just get a few minutes of sleep in before the other two guys walked in…

"Oh Nate, sign my shoes! Ooh Ooh! Sign my purse! Oh Nate I love you!" Shane cried as he and Jason barged in through the door. He clasped his hands together and batted his eyelashes at Nate.

Well, so much for that idea.

Shane laughed and grabbed a water bottle off the counter. He tapped Nate's Converse as a signal to get them off the couch so that he could sit down and said, "And you think that no one likes you!"

Nate shook his head. "I never said that no one likes me," he protested. "All I said was that no one likes me for me."

"Well then what do they like you for?" Jason asked curiously. Nate rolled his eyes.

"Money, fame, tickets to Hollywood parties…" Nate ticked off each of the ideas on his fingers and by the time he was done, he only had one finger left, and technically it wasn't a finger at all because it was a thumb and everyone knows that a thumb isn't technically a finger because it only has two joints and not three, but we're not getting technical, are we?

Jason had been counting on his fingers along with Nate and looked surprised. "That's a lot of reasons," he said in astonishment.

Nate nodded. "And chances are, a girl wants one, or two, or maybe even three of those and not the real person underneath." His eyes, in a rare moment of surrender, showed the sadness he was usually burdened with, and Shane frowned. Nate was really beginning to worry him. He was losing all trust in people, especially the female kind.

But Jason was oblivious and only asked after a long moment in thought, "Could a girl want four at the same time, or is that not allowed?"

Nate shook his head and hoped that Jason took that as an answer instead of a desperate attempt not to knock his head on something and see if it brought any sense with the headache he _would_ cause if he was asked another stupid question at the moment. Fortunately for Jason and Nate, the bus lurched into movement and Shane broke the tension. "Congrats guys," he cried. "We're going to Camp Rock!"

Nate smiled and leaned back, closing his eyes for a moment. Just one moment…

"Nate," Shane whispered again, giving his friend another gentle shake. Nate only rolled over and mumbled something about backstage passes. "I don't need a backstage pass," Shane said testily. "I'm part of the band."

When Shane's voice inflection changed, Nate opened his eyes, blinking a few times before the world came properly into focus. "Oh, sorry," he said, blushing.

Shane ignored him. "Come on," he said. "Get up. We're five minutes from camp."

"Camp?" Nate asked, not completely coherent.

"Yeah, camp. You know, that place you go in the summer to learn about music and to take breakdancing lessons, and to meet pretty girls," Shane said, utterly serious.

Finally, Nate was awake. "Camp!" he cried, jumping up.

"Yup. Camp."

Jason was sitting in the corner and looked up from his phone. "You already said that, like, twice."

Nate ignored him and ran into the bathroom to redo his messy hair and straighten his clothes. Suddenly, he poked his head out and asked, "What do you mean, pretty girls? You have a girlfriend!"

Shane smiled. "Who said I was talking about me?" he asked, giving Nate a pointed look.

In Nate's opinion, the bus got there entirely too early, but all he could do was smooth his hair back in an attempt to tame the curls that kept popping up and brush off his clothes. This was one time when he was extremely thankful that he really didn't have to do anything to make himself look cute, because he wouldn't have had enough time.

"Ready yet?" Shane called from outside the bathroom.

"I guess so," Nate called and stepped out.

Shane eyed him up and down for a moment. "You look fine. What's the matter?"

Nate shrugged. "Oh I don't know. Someone woke me up only five minutes from camp and told me to get ready and I really didn't have time to do anything else aside from brushing my hair back and dealing with my clothes and guess what I feel like having you guys looking perky and fresh and me not even able to wake up properly in time to meet the other campers or your Uncle Brown." He took in a deep breath of air since his supply had been greatly depleted.

"Okay then," Shane said awkwardly. Jason was first out the door, and then Shane, but just before he stepped out, Shane turned to Nate. "We seriously look perky and fresh?" The grin on his face told Nate that he was teasing, so Nate gave him a push to "help" him out the door.

Camp was wonderful. Tons of kids were hanging around with their bags piled haphazardly high, hugging each other and laughing in groups, grateful that summer was finally here once again. Nate smiled. The fresh air just seemed so clean and freeing. He turned to look for Shane and noticed that he was swinging Mitchie around and around, happy to see her in person once again. And there was Jason, giving Kandace, _his_ girlfriend, a hug. Yes, Jason had a girlfriend. It was all because after he went around pouting last year that Shane hadn't made him a birdhouse, this girl steps up and makes him a bird mansion. But Nate had to smile once again. They _did_ look cute together.

"Wonderful to see you Nate," said a voice behind him. Nate turned to find Shane's uncle standing there.

Nate accepted the hand offered and shook it. "Nice to be here again." He turned back to look at the campers and Brown noticed a wistful look in his eyes. "It looks like there's a lot of campers this year," he remarked.

"Yes, but no more than the norm." Brown smiled and put an arm around Nate. "Come on. While everyone else has their little reunion time, we'll go check out the cabin you'll stay in for a couple of days."

Nate looked confused. "Excuse me?" he asked.

Brown explained as they walked down to the cabin and stepped inside, "You'll stay in this cabin until you get assigned to a dance partner then you and your partner will share a cabin somewhere on campus. It's part of the new dance program. We wanted to have a whole different look at dancing, so we're going to give you a partner and have you and your partner come up with a performance that'll show both types of dances."

Nate nodded. This wasn't exactly what he'd expected, but it sounded interesting. "Interesting," he said aloud.

"You can go ahead and put you stuff on whatever bed you'd like, but I'd suggest not unpacking a lot until you get assigned a cabin," Brown suggested. He started to walk out the door and then poked his head back into the room. "By the way, Nate?"

Nate turned around. "Yeah?"

Brown grinned. "Caitlyn's been looking all over for you." He was glad to see that the name brought a smile to Nate's face.

"Thanks," he said. "I'll find her."

"Doubt it," Brown cried cheerfully as he walked out the door. "She'll find you."

And he was right. No sooner had he left than Nate heard the pounding of feet and "Where is he? Where _is_ he? Nate, come out wherever you are! I _will_ find you! You can't hide from me!!"

And behold, a miracle happened. _Nate laughed_. He stepped out onto the porch and faced his best friend. "Someone looking for me?"

Caitlyn grinned. "Are you Nate Black?" she asked.

"Depends," Nate responded gravely.

"On…" Caitlyn prompted.

"On whether you're going to stand there or if you're going to come give me a hug." Caitlyn laughed and launched herself up the steps and into Nate's arms, nearly bowling him over. He smiled once again and hugged her tightly. _This_ was the way camp should be.


	5. Someone to Send Away

"Can't we work out some sort of compromise?" Joanna asked desperately as she scurried around, stuffing clothes and shoes and extra hair ties into her bag. "I mean, really! A rock camp?"

Her mother seemed totally oblivious to her pleas and even put in a pair of earbuds so that she wouldn't have to listen to her daughter. "You're going," she had said. "That's final."

"What if I stayed an extra two hours at the studio?" Joanna bargained, mentally wincing as she thought of what two more hours would entail. She already spent five hours after school at the studio, and an extra two would make it seven. Joanna wondered if she'd be able to stand seven hours of having her mom pick on her dances and her techniques. But then again, _anything_ was worth not having to go to some camp.

"No," her mom replied, shaking her head and actually looking rather pleased with herself. She looked squarely at Joanna and delivered the worst barb of all. "Jamie would have gone."

Joanna felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Of course Jamie would have gone. Jamie was always the happy, smart, personable twin. She would have been just as comfortable rocking out at this camp as dancing away at a feis. Dance had been her life, and she would have been good at this type of thing, but not Joanna. Joanna wasn't comfortable with crowds or lots of people watching her, except when she was onstage dancing at a feis.

Looking at her mom's smug look, a realization suddenly hit Joanna. Her mom wanted to be rid of her for the summer. That was the only reason she would turn down an offer of an extra two hours in the studio. Joanna bit back tears. She knew that she wasn't her mom's favorite, had never been her mom's favorite. Her mom had made that perfectly clear when she came to collect young Joanna from the hospital. She had wanted Jamie to survive, if no one else. Jamie was her star dancer. Jamie was the best. Jamie was the most talented, and Joanna had lived in her shadow happily. But when the star loses its shine, the shadow must step forth, and her mom resented her for that. Joanna was sure that that was the reason why her mom worked her so hard. She knew that her daughter was an excellent dancer, and she wanted her to quite. No one should have the right to encroach on a space that was rightfully Jamie Tremaine's.

Determined not to let her mom get the best of her, Joanna nodded. "Very well," she said resignedly. "I'll go, but what'll I do?"

Her mom sighed and answered her as though Joanna had asked the most ridiculous question. "Camp Rock isn't just a rock camp, Joanna. It's a music camp. They have a dance program there, and Sara, the landlady, knows people there, so she signed you up as well. You can pay me out of your feis money."

"But mom!" Joanna protested. "That money was to buy new hard shoes!"

Her mom shrugged. "You'll have to earn some extra money then. Your old shoes are getting pretty worn out."

Joanna rushed back to her room, forcing herself to take deep breaths. "Thus why I'm saving up for new ones," she muttered. She continued to pack everything she thought she might need for eight weeks away from the apartment, since she refused to call it home right now, and finally had to go ask her mom a question, although it pained her considerably to do so.

Joanna found her mom nodding to whatever beat was in her iPod at the moment when she passed by the couch. "Mom?" she asked.

"What, Joanna?" her mom asked, sighing as though her daughter was just the scourge of her life.

"What do I do about my water?" Joanna inquired.

"I'll send up enough and the kitchen staff can monitor your ten bottles a day." Back into the ears went the earbuds, so Joanna assumed that the conversation was over.

"When will Miss Sara be here?" Joanna asked her mom, not wanting to get yelled at for being late.

"In, like, ten or fifteen minutes," her mom replied exasperatedly. When Joanna didn't move, her mom asked, "Is there _anything_ else, Joanna?" Her icy tone clearly said, 'If there is, keep it to yourself.'

"No, thank you," Joanna responded, grinding her teeth in an effort not to say something less polite.

"Then why are you still standing here?" her mom asked and Joanna retired to her room so that she could grab her bags and her wedge that held her dress. Camp was looking better and better, even if it was a rock camp. Nothing could be worse than this.

There was a knock at the door. "Joanna! Get the door, would you, darling?" her mom called from the couch.

Joanna clenched her fists together and pasted on a pleasant face. "Sure," she said sweetly. She opened the door and found Sara and her daughter standing there.

"Oh my gosh!" the girl squealed. "Finally! Someone older and even less pretty than I am!"

Never mind. It could get worse.

'This coming from a girl who looks like she hasn't washed her hair in her life and wears glasses and braces,' Joanna thought dryly, but she refused to let her hurt show past her eyes. "I'm Joanna," she said, politely yet icily.

"Like I care," said the little brat. Joanna was amazed that her mother was letting her get away with this kind of speech towards a paying customer, but then she noticed Sara grinning at her own mom, and her mom was grinning back! It seemed like everyone in her life was conspiring against her and doing everything in their power to make her life as difficult as possible.

"Well," Joanna began, trying to act as cheerful as possible, "my bags are all packed and I'm ready to go, so whenever you're ready, we can go."

"Then you'd best get going," Joanna's mom said, standing up for the first time and taking swift strides across the room to embrace her daughter "lovingly." "You wouldn't want to be late for your first day. I'll miss you so much, my darling." This statement oozing with false maternal feeling was accompanied by a loud, smacking kiss and an awkward hug. Years of this kind of parting sentiments aided Joanna in not becoming sick. Her mom really was a horrible actress.

The ride to camp seemed to last an eternity. Sara and her daughter, Cambria, talked nonstop and when Joanna tried to tune them out, they would immediately notice it and begin asking questions that she must answer more than 'yes' and 'no' to. Joanna was miserable. She actually felt cheerful when she saw a sign next to the road that read: Camp Rock in 5 Miles. Five miles was never as long as it was on that trip.

Seeing the cabins and all the campers, Joanna briefly wondered if camp was really going to be as bad as she had thought it was going to be, but then she saw a very interesting looking man walking toward them, and the look on his face suddenly made her feel that everything would be alright. "Welcome to Camp Rock!" he cried jubilantly. Joanna smiled, but neither Sara nor Cambria said anything.

Feeling bad for him and embarrassed for the two women's rudeness, Joanna stepped forward and started to introduce herself. "I'm Jo-"

"Thank you for your warm welcome," Sara gushed, brushing Joanna aside. "I'm Sara Williams and this is my daughter, Cambria." She held out her hand and the man took it, giving it a shake. "You may remember my phone call a couple of weeks ago," Sara continued. "I wanted my daughter put into every singing class available."

The man's face briefly showed some kind of emotion that Joanna could only describe as horror before his expression returned to one of happiness, though now it seemed a little bit forced. "Ah, yes. You." Before Sara could say anything more, he turned to Joanna and said, "Now, I believe you were telling me that your name was Jo. Is that short for something?"

"Yes," Joanna said in a rush so that Sara couldn't cut her off again. "Joanna."

"Pleasure to meet you Joanna…and Cambria," he said, hesitating on the second name. "I'm Brown, and I'm in charge of Camp Rock, so you're both in the best hands possible." He shook hands again with Sara and said, "Thank you my dear for dropping your daughter and her friend off here." With that, he picked up Cambria's suitcases and motioned for the girls to follow him. Cambria made a big show of saying goodbye to her mother, but Joanna just kept in step with Brown.

Once Cambria caught up with Joanna and Brown, the latter informed her of where they were going as they wove in and out of all the campers and luggage that littered the trails. "I'm going to leave you in Alexandra's care," he said. "She's your singing counselor and she'll get you where you need to go."

Cambria started to protest. "But-"

"Here we are!" Brown cried, a little too happily. "Alex!" he called. A young girl came out and Brown introduced her to Cambria. Then, after depositing her bags by the stairs, he and Joanna set off. "I pity her," Brown said sadly as he took Joanna's bags for her, waving off any protests with a his hand.

"Who?" Joanna asked.

"Alexandra. That girl is going to be a headache." Brown shook his head. "You on the other hand, seem quite normal."

"That's only because you haven't know me for over twenty-four hours," Joanna joked.

Brown laughed. "You do have a point," he admitted, and then smiled. "But I have a feeling that you're going to do just fine here. So how did you and Cambria end up riding in the same car? It was your last resort, wasn't it?"

Joanna laughed and told a vague version of her story. "So yes," she said as she finished. "It was my first and last resort."

By the time she had finished, they had arrived at another cabin. "Here's your cabin for a couple of days. You know what's going to happen in the dance program, right?" he asked.

"Not really," Joanna admitted. "My mom decided on a whim that I was coming here, and I really have no idea what I'm doing."

Brown then explained the way the dance partners program was going to work and he left her to climb the stairs by herself. When she reached the top step, she turned and waved before heading inside. Brown waved back and sighed. She seemed very sweet-and sad, like there was something she was dying to say and couldn't say it. He shrugged. Maybe this summer would be a good thing for her.


	6. Someone to Fight With

"Sounds like you had an interesting year," Caitlyn said, choosing her words carefully. She was curled up on Nate's bed, her legs tucked under her, as she listened to all of his woes from the past year. She tilted her head to the side and studied her friend. He was paler, and seemed sadder than he had last year. She had thought that having Shane turn away from his "bad boy" status would have taken some of the weight off of Nate, who was usually in charge of the clean up press conferences, but she had been wrong. For once.

"Yeah," he said, sighing. Caitlyn was _sure_ he was about to say something important. He even opened his mouth, but before he could say anything he closed his mouth again and snapped out of whatever state was bothering him. "How's your year been?" he asked instead.

"Fine," Caitlyn said, reluctant to go back to trivial matters like school years. She wanted to know what was going on in her friend's life, but obediently, she told most of the interesting highlights. "I had to practically chain Mitchie to her room," she said, smiling as she thought back to the day when Mitchie could hardly control herself because she was so excited about seeing her boyfriend. Nate watched as his friend came back to the present. "It was funny." She stated, trying not to laugh. "I wish you'd been there."

A damper seemed to settle over the room. They had talked about this before. He wished he'd been there too. Nate looked down at his hands. "Sorry," he whispered. He seemed to be apologizing a lot lately.

"Hey!" Caitlyn exclaimed, trying to make him smile. "You can't say you're sorry about being cute and famous and having tons of girls love you! It simply isn't done." She raised her nose in the air in a completely ridiculous and un-Caitlyn-like manner. Nate smiled. Caitlyn was so awesome.

"I've missed you," he said seriously. "Very much."

"Good," Caitlyn said. After all, I _AM_ your best friend. I'd be really offended if you didn't miss me. Now," she said resolutely, slapping the mattress as she stood. "I have a new cabin mate that I have to go make friends with for a couple of days. She's a dancer." She looked pointedly at Nate.

"Caitlyn," he groaned. "I'm not here to meet girls! How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Just one less than it will take to get it through my head," she said sweetly before she disappeared out the door, laughing as she went. Nate shook his head but couldn't help but smile. He was so lucky to have Caitlyn. She always made his day.

NJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJNJ

Joanna whirled around when she heard footsteps outside. A sprightly girl entered, bobbing up and down, pushing her curly hair out of her face. "Hi!" she chirped. "You must be the new girl!"

"I'm Joanna," the "new girl" replied.

The other girl stuck out her hand. "Caitlyn Geller, music producer extraordinaire."

Joanna smiled at Caitlyn and shook her hand. "Joanna Tremaine."

Caitlyn pursed her lips together. "Don't you have a more interesting title than that?" she asked.

Joanna made a show of clearing her throat and then used her hands to make big arcs in the air as she spoke. "Joanna Tremaine, dancing diva."

"Much better," Caitlyn said with a grin. The girl started laughing and Joanna felt that she had made her first real friend on this foreign continent. "You're accent's a little different," Caitlyn remarked.

Joanna nodded. "I just came over from Ireland. I've been there for twelve years. I never really had a strong Irish accent, but some people say I do have a little lilt."

"That's neat. I've never met anyone from Ireland before," Caitlyn said. She settled down on Joanna's bed and put her chin in her hands. "Talk away my friend and tell me of all your adventures over The Pond."

Joanna had to smile at her description of the Atlantic Ocean. Without really thinking, she told Caitlyn about her life in Ireland and all about her family, but she never mentioned her sister, or the accident. She told Caitlyn all about her competitions and how camp had really been sprung on her at the last moment by her mother. "I have no idea what I'm supposed to do here," she admitted.

"Don't worry," Caitlyn assured her. "I'm a seasoned Camp Rocker. I'll show you around." In the distance, a gong sounded. "Speaking of showing you around," Caitlyn said, standing up. "Our first tour shall begin now and our first destination shall be the mess hall."

Joanna looked confused. "Why?" she asked.

"Because that was the dinner gong and it is time to eat," Caitlyn said, offering her hand to help Joanna stand up. "I would suggest that you bring your dance shoes with you. Whenever you enroll in Camp Rock, bring the items you might need with you at all times, 'cause you never know when you might need them."

Obediently, Joanna grabbed her dance bag and it was only then, when she turned her face to the side, that Caitlyn caught a glimpse of the scar along her jaw. Oblivious to her new friend's glance, Joanna linked arms with Caitlyn and strolled out into the evening. "Quick question," Caitlyn said, with a slight smirk on her face. "Have you ever heard of Connect Three?"

Joanna nodded her head. "They're one of my favorite bands." Caitlyn glanced at her curiously when she said no more. "What?" Joanna asked when she caught Caitlyn looking at her.

Caitlyn shrugged. "I was just expecting something a little more on the excited side since you said they were your favorite band."

Joanna shrugged. "Sorry to disappoint you," she said, "but I'm not the screaming type. I prefer to save my voice for more important things than 'Oh my gosh! Nate, I love you!'" her voice changed to a high-pitched shrill and she and Caitlyn laughed.

"I can see why," Caitlyn said in between giggles.

"Looks like you two are having fun," said a voice. Joanna and Caitlyn whirled around and saw a girl dressed in purple standing there, trying to hide her laughter.

"Hey Tess," Caitlyn said cheerfully. "Joanna here was just demonstrating how she doesn't act towards the boys of Connect Three. Tess Tyler, meet my Irish lass, Joanna Tremaine. Joanna, Tess Tyler."

"_The_ Tess Tyler?" Joanna asked. Her voice held no awe, only curiosity, and Tess smiled at her.

"Yep, but I just like to go by Tess. It gets a little tiring for people to try calling me by saying, 'Hey _the _Tess!' I like just plain old Tess."

Joanna smiled. "I can see how it would get tiring," she responded. "Very well, Just Plain Old Tess, may I offer my right arm since my left is occupied by Miss Geller's hand? We would love to escort you to dinner." Her offer broke any thin ice that was left and the girls laughed all the way to the mess hall.

Once they entered, Joanna was slightly overwhelmed by all the people she saw. Scattered around camp a couple of hours ago, they had not looked so numerous, but now, they looked like a small army. "Caitlyn! Tess!" someone called.

Joanna turned to find a dark-haired girl waving at the two girls and beckoning them over. A tall boy sat at her side and when he turned, Joanna's eyes widened. "Is that…?"

Caitlyn leaned over. "Shane Grey? Yep. Don't worry, he doesn't bite. Hard." She winked and pulled Joanna along with her as she made her way over to the group. "Hey Mitchie, Shane, Barron, Sanders, Lola, Margret, and Ella. Where's Nate?" Joanna had a sneaking suspicion that Caitlyn was naming everyone off for her since Caitlyn and Tess obviously knew everyone already.

"He's over at another table. His suger's low again and he was getting crabby. We didn't want him at the cool table. So, who's your friend?" Shane asked, smiling at Joanna.

"This is Joanna Tremaine," Caitlyn said. "She comes to us from Ireland."

Mitchie scooted over on the bench and patted the now-empty spot. "Well come have a seat and tell us all about Ireland." The warm greeting soothed Joanna's raw nerves and she sat down and began to talk. Everyone seemed to like her accent and kept asking her to repeat certain words that her Irish tongue got caught on until the chattering hall was interrupted by the rude tapping on a mic.

"Hello everyone, and welcome to Camp Rock," Brown said from the stage at the front of the hall. "Are you having a good night?" The campers shouted out their praises and Brown smiled. "Good," he remarked. "Glad to hear it. Now, before we get started chowing down, I want to do something a little out of the norm. You've all heard about our new dance program." Applause. "So I want to have one dancer from each category that's here tonight come up and do a little something for us." Much applause. Joanna stiffened next to Mitchie and turned pale. "Why don't we start with the breakdancers? Nate?"

Barron and Sanders got up to go put on some good tracks and Nate got up on stage. Joanna studied one of the boys that she had looked up to for quite a while. Sure, he was only one year older, but he acted like he was at least a decade older. Street music filled the air and Nate gave it his all. When the dance ended, everyone applauded and Caitlyn reached over and playfully pushed Joanna's hanging jaw up to meet her upper jaw. "Here at camp," she shouted over the noise, "you could get a fly in there if you open it too wide." Joanna blushed and turned back to where a girl was doing some sort of Spanish dance. She had trouble paying attention until Brown called her name.

"Come on up, Joanna," he said, motioning to her. Heads turned in her direction and Joanna felt herself blush as red as her hair.

Mitchie gave her arm a little squeeze. "You can do it," she whispered.

Joanna stepped to the front of the room and sat down on the stage to lace up her shoes. When she looked up, the first person who caught her eye was Cambria. The latter was glowering at her and it made Joanna shake, but the next person who caught her eyes was Caitlyn, and Caitlyn took that opportunity to open her mouth widely and snap it shut. Instantly, Joanna smiled and her fears left her.

'This is just another feis,' she thought. Since she was in her soft shoes, she didn't make any noise as she leapt around the stage, her strong legs giving her height as she jumped. She had almost finished her routine when she heard someone mutter, "Big deal."

Her head snapped in the direction of the comment and her angry green eyes met Nate Black's unimpressed brown ones. "Let's see you do better," she snapped, her stage fright completely overridden by her anger.

He raised his hands and responded, "It was just a comment."

"Well keep it to yourself," Joanna retorted. "I didn't hear anyone remarking when you were up here that your dancing looked like you were convulsing." Some people gasped and Nate's face grew white with anger.

"Your dancing looks like you have something pricking your legs that you keep trying to outrun," Nate threw back.

"Well-" Joanna began.

"Well nothing," Brown said, hopping up onto the stage. "I was waiting until tomorrow to assign partners, but this is an excellent opportunity. You and Nate can be partners and get to know what each other's dancing is really about."

"I'm not dancing with him!" "I'm not dancing with her!" The refusals came at the same time, and the two dancers turned to look at each other instead of Brown. "Stop that!" Once again, at the same time. "Me? You stop that!" They glared at each other sullenly since saying things at the same time was only making people laugh, and this was too grave a situation to have someone laughing at you during it.

"What about the cabin?" Nate asked, clinging to some hope. "You can't have a girl and a guy sharing a cabin out in the middle of nowhere."

Brown rolled his eyes. "I highly doubt anything of that sort will happen between the two of you." He looked from one to the other. "Just don't kill each other, okay?" He patted Joanna on the shoulder and then clapped his hands. "Alright everyone, I believe dinner is served."

This was going to be a dreadful eight weeks.


	7. Someone to Find

"This is all your fault!" Joanna and Nate both cried, leaning around Brown to yell at each other.

"Do you know what each other is thinking?" Brown asked curiously as he glanced from one angry face to the other.

"No!" they both cried, and then lapsed into sulky silence.

Brown grinned. "I would say that you're long lost twins, but that'd be kind of hard to accept." He looked from an angry girl with fair skin, freckles, green eyes and red hair to an angry boy with brown hair, brown eyes and a slightly darker skin color. "No," he said sadly, "definitely not twins." He had no idea how much his comment might have wounded Joanna, had she been listening, but she was past caring. She only gripped her dance bag tighter in her hands, briefly wishing that it was Nate's neck that she could throttle instead of her dance bag straps. _THIS_ was the boy that she had admired, and whose songs had inspired her to write her own songs? Ha! So much for that!

The thought made her grin for a moment, and Brown caught the change of emotion. "A smile!" he cried. "A miracle, I'd say."

"I wouldn't speak so quickly," Joanna retorted icily. "I'm only exploring the different murder options in my head, and each one is pleasing me more than the last." Nate glared at her and in a very juvenile move, Joanna stuck her tongue out at him.

At any other moment, the woods would have been a beautiful place, but tonight, Joanna barely even noticed her new surroundings. All she wanted to do was to go home, but then she remembered her mom's smirk and wondered if this was really any worse. She rolled her eyes. Of course it was worse! The trio stopped by Joanna's cabin to pick up her suitcases and the notion to escape out the window presented itself to Joanna, but she pushed it back down, trying to be relatively reasonable in her anger.

They did the same for Nate, and he took so long that Joanna actually wondered if he _had_ escaped out the window, but he soon grudgingly appeared and put her mind at ease. Ease? Well, not quite at ease.

Brown kept up a steady stream of chatter on the way to the cabin, and Joanna found that it was actually a rather cozy spot, perched on the far side of the lake. They even had their own dock. Big whoop. Everything about this place would have been perfect if one person hadn't existed. Hint Hint.

Nate was absorbed in his own thoughts as well. Why couldn't he have just roomed with Shane and Jason? This "partners" thing was silly. Why, oh why did he have to say anything at all about her dancing? 'Because your sugar was low, the breakdancing didn't help, and you know that when your sugar gets low, you get really crabby,' his conscience whispered to him, berating him for saying anything at all. At dinner, he had resented watching Joanna flounce back to _his _friends, sit down at _his_ table, ironically in _his_ spot, and act like nothing had ever happened. After dinner, when Brown had come to collect them, both Nate and Joanna had been the brunt of many stares, and Nate hated Joanna for that. Even though _technically_ he knew that it was his fault. He had started this whole mess.

Brown delivered both campers safely to the front door and gave them a push inside. "Sleep well, my little dancers. Classes start in the morning." He gave a cheerful wave and started to leave.

"Brown?" Joanna called before he could get too far away. He turned and looked expectantly at her. "You should really breathe in between monologues." Brown winked and Joanna waved, opening the door to disappear inside.

"Which bed do you want?" Joanna asked, trying her hardest to be polite. Nate was making it very difficult though.

He shrugged. "I don't care. I just need some sugar in my system, and quick." Joanna dug around in her bag until she found a candy bar and practically hurtled it at Nate's head, even though she hadn't intended on throwing it that hard. Oops. He looked at it, confused. "What's this for?" he asked.

Joanna knew perfectly well that he was asking why she was giving him a candy bar, but she chose instead to answer, "You eat it." When he gave her a glare, she added, "I don't want you passing out or going into some kind of shock on me, so eat it before you go to bed."

Nate tried, he really did, to say thank you, but the words refused to come out. Joanna must have seen what he was trying to do because she grabbed her pjs and nodded at him. "I know. Right now, you're too mad. You're welcome." She then disappeared into the bathroom and changed into shorts and a T-shirt, washing her face and braiding her hair in a long braid before she stepped out.

She found Nate looking less pale, sitting on his bed with his night clothes in his lap. "Bathroom's all yours," Joanna told him. He looked up, startled. "Sorry if I took too long," she said.

Nate had meant to say, 'No, not long at all,' but "Well, that's what I expected from a girl," came out instead. Joanna snapped her jaw shut in an effort not to retort, and Nate scrambled into the bathroom before he could make things worse. What was wrong with him? She was obviously trying to make amends, and he wasn't helping at all! Unfortunately, he knew what was wrong. He was resentful. That was the only way to put it. Seeing Shane and Mitchie laughing and talking, and watching Kandance and Jason cuddle up by the mess hall window had not helped in the least.

He stared at the mirror, not really seeing the reflection that stared back at him. No one else had ever understood him enough to know that he was too angry to say thank you. Everyone else just assumed that he was doing his best to show them that he was mad at them. The thought made him stop and pause. 'But no,' he thought, shaking his head. 'This is Joanna.' It must be just a coincidence.

He stepped out into the main room of the cabin and found Joanna already in bed, reading a book. He bent in half and twisted his head to the side in order to read the title. The Mechanics of Dancing. How boring. Joanna looked up, amused with the position that Nate was in. "You could've just asked," she told him.

Nate shrugged. "Didn't want to disturb you since you looked so enthralled with your book." Sarcasm dripped from those words and it was only by sheer will that Joanna ignored them. Nate turned off the light and climbed into bed.

"Guess I'm done," Joanna said dryly, tossing her book into her bag.

"So soon?" Nate asked sweetly. "That's too bad."

Joanna rolled over and fell asleep soon after, even though Nate began to snore slightly. Into the early hours of the morning, Joanna felt a tightening in her chest that woke her from her sleep. Automatically, she reached over for her water bottle, but it wasn't there. Joanna's mind raced as she tried to remember where her last bottle had been. She felt like smacking herself for her stupidity. After being so angry with Nate, she hadn't stopped by the kitchen to get another bottle!

Carefully, Joanna slipped a sweatshirt on and tied her shoes, creeping out the door and down the stairs of the cabin before she felt comfortable enough to walk normally. She made her way back around the lake, following the subtle markings on the trail that kept people from getting lost, and let herself into the kitchen. With the pain in her chest increasing, Joanna began searching for her water bottles. She first tried the obvious place, the fridge, but they weren't there. She then tried the cupboards, but that search proved futile as well.

In a last effort to find the bottles, she got down on her hands and knees and opened the doors under the sink, sticking her head inside to look around.

"You do know that we have a plumber for that, don't you?" someone said.

Joanna was so surprised that she jerked her head up, banging it on the pipes. She carefully backed herself out from under the sink and looked up to find Nate leaning on the counter, looking incredibly nonchalant. "No, I didn't," she responded. "Ow."

Nate grinned. "Sorry about the head. What're you looking for at one thirty in the morning?"

"My water bottles," Joanna replied. "They're for my dancing." She grinned. "I've been drinking them ever since I was four, and you could say that I'm a little addicted."

"And you figured you'd look under the sink, why?"

Joanna shrugged. "I can't find them anywhere else."

Nate motioned for her to follow him and he led her to a store room that sat adjacent to the kitchen. There, neatly stacked in crates, were her water bottles. She pulled out one and opened it, sucking some of the liquid down before she put the cap back on. Immediately, she felt better. "Can we go back to bed now?" Nate asked.

Joanna nodded and they walked out of the room into the kitchen. As they passed the fridge, Nate reached into the freezer and pulled out a bag of peas. "What are those for?" Joanna asked.

"Your head."

They walked in complete, and rather comfortable silence until Joanna suddenly asked, "Why'd you come find me anyways?"

Nate smiled. "You're really bad at sneaking out," he responded. "I heard you go and I was worried that you might be sleep walking or something."

They reached the cabin and climbed into their beds. "Thank you," Joanna whispered into the darkness.

From his bed, Nate smiled. "You're welcome," he responded. "Good night."


	8. Someone to Eat With

Joanna opened her eyes and blinked, adjusting to the bright light of the sun. She rolled over and attempted to bury her head in her pillow, until she realized that the pillow she was lying on wasn't her pillow. She opened her eyes a little wider and saw Nate asleep in his bed and then the events of last night in all their gory details came flooding back to her. Out of habit, her hand snaked down to the side of the bed to find her water bottle. Taking a quick drink, she glanced at the clock and her eyes widened to find that it was already a little bit past eight o' clock.

Fully awake, Joanna pushed back the covers on her bed, jumped out of it and scurried over to Nate's bed. "Nate," she hissed, giving his shoulder a shake. He continued snoring and only mumbled something in his sleep, trying to feebly push her hand away. Joanna got closer until she was just a couple inches from his face, trying to wake him up gently. Every fiber in her body screamed that they were going to be late, so throw him on the floor and let him wake up already, but she refrained.

Finally, Nate's eyes fluttered open. For a moment, Joanna's breath caught in her throat and she felt mesmerized by his chocolate eyes staring right into hers. Unfortunately, Nate had to speak and break the spell. "Why're you in my face?" he asked, confused.

Joanna stepped back and responded, "Because I was trying to wake you up. We're late! It's almost-" Her voice was cut off by the alarm clock on the desk starting to trill.

Nate groaned and finished her sentence for her. "Eight fifteen?"

Joanna frowned. "I thought we were going to be late," she said, feeling that even to her ears, now, her excuse sounded lame. "Sorry."

Nate pushed back the covers. "I'm going to take a shower." He hopped out of bed and strode into the bathroom with his day clothes in hand. "Breakfast isn't until nine," he added over his shoulder.

Joanna groaned and pushed her hair out of her eyes. Why couldn't she do anything right? But really, who ate breakfast at nine in the morning? By nine in the morning, Joanna had normally been at her mom's studio for three hours, taken a shower, eaten breakfast, and been off to school. Part of her berated herself for not waking up earlier, but another part argued back logically and said that it wouldn't have done her any good anyways. She would still have had to wait until nine for breakfast.

She tidied up her corner of the room and made her bed, laid out the dance clothes she planned to wear today and had even settled down to read a book when Nate stepped out of the bathroom. Joanna had to bite back a smile. He really did look pretty cute.

"Bathroom's yours," he said, flinging his night clothes onto his bed. "I took a little longer today, sorry."

Joanna picked up her clothes and waltzed into the bathroom. "Well," she replied, leaning on the door jamb, "I expected that from a guy." She closed the door before Nate could respond and giggled. Turning on the water, she took a shower, blocking Nate from her mind for a delicious fifteen minutes. Suddenly, an ironic thought hit her, making her laugh until she turned off the spray. _Girls would be dying right now to take a shower in the same cabin as Nate Black._

She couldn't stop laughing until she dried her hair, and whenever she thought about it again from then on, she felt compelled to smile. Dressed in a dance skirt, shorts underneath, a loose top and her poodle socks, Joanna stepped out of the bathroom and skipped over to her bag.

Nate was just about to remark that her high white dance socks looked silly when she leaned over and he saw that scar for the first time. Everything inside him tightened as he first glimpsed the white scar stretching from her ear all the way down to her chin. How could he not have noticed that? "What happened?" he asked quietly, his whole manner towards his cabinmate changing.

Joanna looked up, confused. When her eyes met Nate's, she met his gaze, and then watched it slide down her face to her jaw. "It's a long story," she replied, and stuffed her clothes into her bag with more force than was necessary. Nate was wise enough to drop the subject and the two teens left the cabin and headed toward the mess hall were all the kids had gathered in a long line, waiting for breakfast.

Jason was the first person to come running up and throwing himself at Nate to give him a huge hug. "You're alive!" he cried happily. "I was so afraid that something would happen to you."

Nate looked at him, confused. "What are you talking about?" he asked.

Jason rolled his eyes. "Brown told you and that girl not to kill each other. She looked so mad that- oh, but I'm just glad you're alive!" He gave Nate another hug and skipped off.

Nate turned to Joanna. "Reputations get around," he joked and she laughed.

"Well, at least when I go home I can say that I almost killed Nate Black," she responded. Nate thought that he heard her mumble something like, 'That would make two,' but he shook his head. He must be hearing things.

"Nate! Joanna!" someone called. Both teens turned around to find Shane and Mitchie and their group hurrying toward them. Everyone formed a circle around the two dancers and Shane remarked, "Well, everything appears to be intact. No missing appendages that I can see."

Joanna smiled and drew herself up proudly. "We didn't kill each other, no." She lowered her voice to a stage whisper, drawing everyone in closer to hear her. "But don't go to our cabin. We still haven't cleaned up all the blood yet."

Mitchie frowned, looking worried. "You guys didn't look injured." Her motherly side took over as she scanned Nate and Joanna for possible injuries warranting blood. "I don't see anything wrong."

Joanna nodded sadly in agreement. She motioned to Nate's long sleeved shirt and then her own. "But we're both wearing sufficient enough clothing to cover up our wounds."

She grinned, but Mitchie took her seriously, pushing Nate's sleeves up to look for battle wounds. Shane gently pried her off his friend. "She's kidding, Mitch."

"Not funny," Mitchie pouted, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Probably not," Joanna agreed. "But your reaction was!"

Everyone laughed and they soon filed in to get breakfast. Joanna slipped into the kitchen when no one really missed her, and asked Mrs. Torres, the head cook, for one of her water bottles. Heading back out, she and Nate exchanged a smile and everyone crowded around one table to eat, laughing and talking along the way. Caitlyn, who was sitting snuggly in between Mitchie and Joanna, noticed something that no one else did. Nate kept looking at Joanna.

'He's beginning to like her!' Caitlyn thought with glee. The one person who had not appealed to him at all was beginning to gain his affections where no other girl had before! She was so excited that she almost clapped her hands.

Meanwhile, unaware of his friend's probing gaze, Nate glanced once more at Joanna. It frightened him that she was beginning to grow on him, but nonetheless, he couldn't help but be drawn to her. There was her dancing ability for one, her wit for another, and her character most of all, that interested him. She was different from the other girls, and he liked that.

If only he had really known how different Joanna was…


	9. Someone to Dance With

"Please tell me again why I have to do this," Nate asked, his voice strained due to his discomfort. He was standing in the dance cabin with Joanna, one leg up on the ballet barre, stretching and wincing.

"Because," Joanna responded calmly, "for Irish dancing, you must stretch very well, or else you'll pull a muscle or get a shin splint." Her arm arced over gracefully as she bent over her leg, holding her arch to get more of a stretch. "Come on, Nate," she added unbelieving. "Don't tell me that you never stretch before you breakdance."

Nate had the decency to blush. "Well," he said slowly, guiltily, "I don't stretch _all_ the time." When Joanna rolled her eyes and turned to put her other leg up on the barre, Nate tried to get her mind off the subject. "I don't just breakdance, you know."

"What do you do?" Joanna asked curiously.

"Hip hop, a little ballroom, and some popping," Nate responded.

Joanna wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Popping looks like your joints are not connected properly," she said. "Hip hop looks like you're about to throw your hips out of joint, and ballroom is," Joanna paused, trying to think back over what she knew about ballroom dancing. "Ballroom is cool," she finally answered. She clapped her hands and said, "Now, I think we've warmed up enough. Let's get started."

For three hours, Joanna showed Nate almost everything she knew about Irish dance. She taught him some of the basic steps and soon they were dancing together in what she termed, 'Set Dances.' These were done in her soft shoes, so Joanna switched shoes, she and Nate took a ten minute break, and then they were up again, and Joanna was showing him hard shoe dances.

For two more hours, they practiced these dances. They were so enthralled in their dancing that they missed lunch and didn't even notice. Nate even had to admit that he rather liked the Irish dancing, even though some of it seemed rather unnatural. He was surprised to see that even without meaning to, he and Joanna danced together in almost-perfect harmony. With a little effort, they could be a great dance team.

"That one was really good," Joanna remarked, praising the dance they had just completed as she took rapid gulps of her water. She wiped the sweat of her forehead and sat down on the floor next to Nate, who was sprawled out, his hair now plastered to his face. Without even thinking, she reached over and gently brushed a lock of his hair from his forehead. His eyes met hers and Joanna saw something there that scared her. Unable to tear her eyes away, she was still sitting in that same, stiff position when Nate gently sat up, his face getting closer to hers…

Joanna jumped up as if the ground she had been sitting on was on fire. "How about we go get some lunch, and then we can see what you can do?" she suggested as he stood up. "If you can do anything," she mumbled, just loud enough to hear her.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "I resent people making fun of my dancing."

"Sorry," Joanna said, lowering her head to appear properly chastised, but the huge smile that played on her lips gave her away.

Nate groaned in mock exasperation. "What was Brown thinking when he put us together?"

"You expect me to answer that?" Joanna queried, sitting back down to take off her hard shoes. When she pulled off the first shoe, Nate's chest tightened. The whole heel of her sock was stained bright red. Taking a look at her shoe, Nate saw that the blood had also seeped into the leather. When Joanna took off her other shoe, the result was the same. Nate cringed, yet Joanna seemed unfazed. When she looked up and caught his expression, she asked, "What's your problem?"

Feeling defensive once again, Nate responded, "My problem is that you're dripping blood all over the dance floor. I don't want to slip on your blood while I'm 'convulsing.'" His sarcastic use of her description of his dancing made her sigh.

"Can we just get along?" she asked truthfully. "I mean, I propose a truce."

Nate looked warily at her. "Exactly how long do I have to be nice to you for?"

Joanna ignored the tone of his remark and counted in her head. "Seven weeks, five days, sixteen hours and fourteen, no fifteen, seconds." She shrugged. "The point is, can we just accept that we are both good at our own kinds of dancing and can we work together to produce a really cool routine for the Final Jam?"

Nate smiled at her. "I guess I can try and be nice for that long."

Joanna smiled back. "Good," she said. She peeled her socks off and looked at her new wounds. "Must've danced too long," she remarked. She reached over for her water bottle and took a drink.

"What is so great about that water?" Nate asked curiously.

Joanna shrugged. "It's just designer water that my mom buys for me. I've been drinking it ever since I can remember. I doubt there's really anything special about it." She held the bottle out. "Try some?" she asked.

Nate shrugged and accepted the water, sniffing as he twisted off the cap. Joanna laughed. "Seriously Nate," she joked. "It's just water." He took a small drink and his face scrunched up as he swallowed.

"Ew," he said after a moment. He handed back the water bottle. "That is-I'm not even sure _what_ that is, but it's definitely _not_ water."

Joanna frowned. "Of course it is," she argued.

"Joanna," Nate reasoned, "that water tastes nothing like normal water."

Joanna placed her hands on her hips. "And just what _does_ normal water taste like?" she challenged.

That was when Nate remembered that she'd been drinking this water since the age of four. She had no memory of regular water. "When we get up to lunch, I'll get you some," Nate promised. "You can try it for yourself, because all I can think of is that water tastes like water." He shrugged.

Joanna looked at her water bottle that was sitting on the floor. "Well," she said slowly. "I guess one sip couldn't hurt." She pulled on her shoes, wincing as they came into contact with her heels, and Nate gave her a hand up off the floor.

As they walked back up the trail to the mess hall, Nate and Joanna made light conversation. Nate talked about his family and a little about the band, and Joanna told him all about feiseanna. He seemed to like hearing her talk about the dance competitions and so she told him all about the venues she had attended, and the girls she had danced against. "Most of them are really nice," she finished, "but some of them are rather rude and stuck up."

Nate and Joanna joined the line of kids in front of the mess hall and Nate felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and saw a tall boy with short blonde hair and glasses. "Chris!" he cried. "How've you been?"

The boy grinned, pushing his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose. "Fine," he said.

Nate turned to Joanna and said, "Joanna, this is Christopher Holling. Chris, this is Joanna Tremaine." As the two shook hands and said hello, Nate explained, "Chris is a science major, but he's awesome at violin, so he comes here almost every year."

"When I'm not at science camp," Chris added. The two boys continued to talk, and Joanna watched with a smile. Nate seemed happy. She watched his face, unintentionally open, as Chris explained everything that had been going on in the past year. Nate really seemed to care. Hmm…

"Nate! Joanna!" a group of voices cried. Chris stopped in mid sentence and Nate and Joanna turned to see who was calling them. Caitlyn, Mitchie, Tess, Jason, Kandace, and Shane were all running up to them excitedly.

"Hey guys," Joanna cried, giving each on a quick hug.

"Where were you?" Caitlyn and Kandace asked together.

"For…" Joanna prompted.

"Oh I don't know, um, lunch?" Caitlyn replied sarcastically.

Nate raised an eyebrow. "Cait, we're right here."

"Yeah," Caitlyn agreed. "But this is the dinner line."

Joanna and Nate looked at each other, confused, and then looked at their wrists, which were lacking watches for proof. Shane showed Nate his arm, and sure enough, it was a few minutes before five in the evening. "Oops," they said at the same time.

"'Oops' is right," Caitlyn said, pretending to be angry. Then she laughed. "They lost track of time. How cute."

The doors to the mess hall opened before Nate or Joanna could protest that remark. The night's meal was pizza, and Joanna found that once she smelled food, she was starving! Nate obviously felt the same was because his pace quickened considerably towards the food table. They all got their drinks and Joanna went to the kitchen to retrieve her water bottle. When she came back, Nate and Chris were still talking, trying to put as much in between bites as they could.

Nate, though, was more attentive than Joanna thought. When she reached forward to grab her water bottle and take a sip, Nate excused himself for a moment, returning with a paper cup in his hands. "Here," he said, holding it out to Joanna. "Tell me what it tastes like." He had remembered!

Joanna smiled at his thoughtfulness and took a sip. She shrugged. "It's okay," she said, taking another drink, "but it doesn't have the same," she snapped her fingers, looking for the word. "Rush to it," she finished.

Caitlyn leaned across the table. "What'd you give her, Nate?" she asked.

"Water," he responded. "She doesn't remember what regular water tastes like."

The rest of the meal was eaten rather silently and then it was time for the Campfire Jam. Shane and Mitchie performed while Caitlyn played. Joanna and Nate sat together on the bench, clapping for them as all three took their bows. "They were really good," Joanna said after she and Nate had said goodnight to everyone and were walking back to their cabin.

Nate nodded. "Shane and Mitchie have always sung well together, and Caitlyn's just amazing." He grinned. "I'm lucky to have her as a friend."

"Just a friend?" Joanna inquired.

Nate glanced sideways at her, trying to figure out if this question held a hidden meaning. "Just a friend," he replied. "She's like my little sister."

Joanna changed the subject. "Can I have the shower first?" she requested. "I feel so gross after all our dancing."

Nate nodded gravely. "I was going to ask what that smell was but-" Joanna punched him in the shoulder. "Kidding!" he laughed. Then he became more serious. "I have a suggestion. Why don't we change into our bathing suits and then take a dip in the lake before it gets too late?"

Joanna shrugged. "Sure," she said, and then smiled. "Race you to the cabin!"


	10. Someone to Swim

"Come on!" Nate hissed. His arms were getting tired of the boring patterns it took to tread water as he waited for Joanna to jump into the lake and join him.

"You're sure that it's not cold?" she asked again, hopping from one foot to the other as a cool breeze played with her hair.

"I assure you that you're getting colder by the minute," Nate said dryly. "Just jump in and you'll be warmer."

So she did. Nate was prepared for her to just jump off the dock, but she actually used her dancer's muscles to spring up into the air, flying over his head, and diving into the water with barely a splash for evidence. When she resurfaced, spluttering about how cold it really was, Nate held up nine fingers.

"Wha-at are you d-do-ing," she asked, her teeth chattering violently as she became used to the water.

"I give it a nine," Nate responded. "It was a pretty good dive."

Joanna grinned. "Thanks," she said, bowing as best she could in the water. They started swimming, not going anywhere in particular when Nate suddenly grabbed Joanna and placed a hand over her mouth.

Joanna struggled a little until Nate leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Hush, it's okay. I won't hurt you." If she was honest with herself, Joanna would have admitted that it was more his close proximity and the fact that he was whispering in her ear that made her calm down rather than the words themselves. But she wasn't, so it was definitely the words he had spoken.

All was quiet, and yet Nate was still holding a hand over her mouth, keeping her close to him. Joanna peered out over the darkness and finally saw what was making Nate wary. There was a black shape floating out on the other side of the lake, and it seemed to be rotating. Suddenly, laughter rang out. "We're not any better at this than we were a year ago," someone cried in between fits of laughter.

"Shush!" another voice laughed. "You'll wake the whole camp and then your uncle will be upset."

Nate released his hold on Joanna and sighed, chuckling. "Looks like we're not the only ones who like to be out on the lake at night." He and Joanna swam around for a bit, but they soon crept out of the water to give Shane and Mitchie some quiet time.

As they walked back, Nate noticed that Joanna seemed subdued, thoughtful. He waved a hand in front of her face. "Anyone home?" he asked.

She turned to face him. "Is there ever anyone home?" she asked mock seriously. They both smiled and Joanna turned back to look at where she was walking. "Just seeing Shane and Mitchie tonight made me realize that they have it so much tougher than I thought."

"How so?" Nate asked, as they climbed up the steps to their cabin.

"Well, they're surrounded by people throughout the day, Shane's away on tour most of the time, and when they do get some time to go on a date, they have the paparazzi following them around." Joanna pried open the screen door and stepped into the cabin, with Nate following her inside. "I just think that being around someone who is so famous must get to be difficult."

"Too difficult?" Nate asked, surprising them both.

Joanna's eyes widened slightly, but she looked levelly at Nate and replied, "Not if you really loved the person." Her tone changed to one slightly more light-hearted. "Take Shane and Mitchie for example. They love each other, so even though they're apart a lot, they find a way through it all."

Nate nodded and motioned towards the bathroom. "You can go ahead and go first," he offered. "I need some time to think."

Joanna refrained from questioning him and just accepted his offer. She had just gathered her clothes together when she felt the familiar tightening in her chest. She looked around and found her water bottle. She took a few swallows and then left the bottle on her bed and closed the door.

When Nate heard the shower running, his tension eased and he lay back on his bed, ignoring the fact that he was still wet. Seeing Shane and Mitchie together tonight had increased the yearning in his heart to find someone to share a relationship like that with him. When he closed his eyes, all he could see were different memories of Joanna, dancing onstage, dancing with him, and swimming, so he kept his eyes open. He had grown fond of Joanna, and as she had guessed, his earlier question about difficulty had not been about Shane and Mitchie.

Was it only because she had detested him that he was drawn to her, after the initial disgust on both their parts had worn off, of course? No, Nate had to admit that it was more than that. He felt drawn to her, as though something was putting him in her way for a reason other than to have her push him out of it. He felt like he was needed, like he was the only one who could really understand her, but he didn't know why.

Nate turned his head towards Joanna's side of the room and his eyes caught sight of her water bottle that she had tossed onto the bed. He frowned. There was something about that water that made him uneasy. Flashbacks of conversations he had had with Joanna pushed their way into his mind.

"_I've been drinking it since I was four. You could say I'm kind of addicted."_

"_It's okay, but it doesn't have the same rush to it." _

"_And just what does normal water taste like?"_

Nate's eyebrows knit together. He remembered Joanna getting a certain look on her face before each time she reached out to find her water bottle. He remembered how it had been so important to find it at one thirty in the morning. He remembered how, even though she had sweat running down her face, after she took a few drinks, she was ready to dance again. He remembered that she had never talked about her family, and how after he had asked about her scar, she had responded, _"It's a long story."_

Something was wrong here. Nate felt uneasy as he sat there, now aware that there was definitely something wrong. From the way Joanna acted, Nate was also pretty sure that she had no idea what was going on. If only he could find someone to help him without getting Joanna in a huge amount of trouble…

Nate leapt off the bed as realization hit him. "Chris!"


	11. Someone to Help

Because Joanna was still in the bathroom, Nate scrambled over to the desk they both shared and began rummaging around to find a writing utensil and a piece of paper so that he could leave Joanna a note. He didn't want her to worry when she came out and found that he was not there. He was still searching when Joanna came out of the bathroom. Since he hadn't heard her, she leaned against the door jamb and watched him silently for a moment, her lips turning up in a slight smile. "Do you have a search warrant?" she asked calmly.

Nate spun around, surprise evident on his face, and then his gaze softened. "No," he said. "And you don't have a pencil."

Joanna strode over to the desk and reached up to the top shelf, pulling down a jar filled with pencils and pens of all different colors. "Pick your color," she said calmly, trying not to laugh.

Nate blushed but waved her hand away. "Now that you're here," he said, "I can just give my message verbally." He motioned to the blank paper on the desk. "I was in the midst of leaving you a note saying that I'm going out for a little while. Don't wait up. Okay?"

Joanna inclined her head to show that she understood. "Have fun, wherever you're going. More thinking?"

Nate shook his head. "No, I need to do some acting this time." He didn't even think, he just kissed her cheek and headed out the door without looking back. Joanna's hand reached up and touched the spot he had just kissed. Her first kiss. It didn't matter that it was only on the cheek. It was her first glimpse of affection, and it was thrilling.

Nate's lips tingled from the mere contact he had just had with her as he walked in the direction of the kitchen. He thought back to all the symptoms he had seen Shane come down with when he fell in love with Mitchie, and _"Feel like every nerve is on fire when you touch the other person,"_ had not been on the list. Perhaps he was coming down with a fever? But no, now that he was out in the open air, everything was normal, except for his lips. They still tingled, and when he thought about Joanna, his stomach tightened in a very pleasant way.

Nate shook his head grudgingly. As much as he loved to think about Joanna, right now it was more important that he think about Joanna's life. She had thwarted his plan to take her water bottle off her bed, so his plans would have to be delayed while he went to the kitchen to grab a new bottle. He sincerely hoped that no one kept count of the bottles.

He reached the kitchen and stepped inside, trying not to make any unnecessary sounds. He flipped on the light and hastened to the supply room, finding the water bottles in their crates. Gently, he pried one box open and reached inside, pulling a water bottle out. Smiling satisfactorily, Nate placed the box back were he had found it.

"What are you doing?"

Nate whirled around, his mind racing to find options that would help him explain his way out of this circumstance. He found Brown standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, a look of expectancy on his face that clearly stated without words that Nate would be explaining this one in full detail. "Well?" he asked.

Nate could only stutter for a moment. "How-how"

Brown replied, "Kitchen light. I start to wonder what the kitchen staff is doing up at," he checked his watch, "eleven at night." He gazed right at Nate. "And one thirty on the morning." His tone changed to one more carefree. "And no one informed me that they had very short helpers working in the kitchen, so I came to investigate." He raised his eyebrows. "Care to share?"

Nate's mind went blank except for the mandate that he get to Chris as fast as he could, so he simply answered with the truth. "I think Joanna's in trouble and she doesn't know it." There. It was out.

Brown nodded and said, "Well then, you'd better get over to Chris as fast as you can. We wouldn't want Joanna to get hurt, would we?" Nate's jaw fell open. How did he know everything? Brown seemed to understand and smiled. "I know things," he said mock seriously. "I have people." He patted Nate on the shoulder. "Go ahead and leave, kitchen helper. I'll turn out the lights.

Nate smiled and headed out of the supply room. He heard his name called, so he turned around. "Yeah?"

"Don't hurt her," Brown warned. "I have a feeling that she's been hurt enough in her lifetime already."

Nate didn't promise not to, for he assumed that there would be times where they would hurt each other unintentionally, but he did nod and say, "I'll do my best." He left the kitchen and ran down the winding trail to Chris's cabin, knocking lightly on the screen.

A groan came from within and Chris's cabinmate came to the door. "What?" he asked irritably.

"Sorry to bother you," Nate apologized, "but I really need to speak to Chris."

Chris's cabinmate huffed and woke Chris rather rudely, then hopped back into bed and pulled the covers over his head. Chris came to the door, looking slightly sleepy, but when he saw Nate standing there, he seemed to become more alert. "Nate?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

"I'm really sorry about waking you up," Nate prefaced, "but I need your help. Please tell me that you brought your science gear like you do every year."

Chris frowned, confused. "Yeah," he replied slowly. "Why?"

Nate held out the bottle of water. "Because I need you to test this and tell me what's in it."

Chris knew Nate well enough to know that this must be important if he was at the door at eleven thirty, wanting a science experiment done. Without asking any questions, he held up one finger. "One sec," he said. "Let me get my stuff."

Once Chris had obtained his equipment, he and Nate went in search of a secluded space with enough light for them to see by. Finding one by the lake, they set Chris's tools down and Nate cracked the seal on the water bottle. "Pour just a couple of drops of that onto the slide," Chris instructed, holding out a pipette for Nate to use to get a couple of drops out of the bottle. "Then put a coverslip over it," he added, holding out the square piece of glass.

Nate handed him the prepared slide and asked, "Now what?"

"I'll look at it under the microscope," Chris told him as he slid the slide onto the microscope stage. "If nothing's there, we can redo the test." He grinned and motioned to the bottle. "It looks like we have plenty to work with."

Nate laughed. "You have all the material you could want," he told his friend dryly, thinking of the crates that were in the supply room filled with those same bottles.

Chris took his time, rotating the slide and adjusting the magnification on the microscope. Nate's hands were clammy as he twisted his shirt unconsciously. Finally, Chris looked up, a look of pure disbelief of his face.

His tone was deadly serious as he asked, "Where did you get this?"


	12. Someone to Save

"Why?" Nate asked warily, unsure whether to tell Chris the whole story or not.

"Because this water has so many additives that it's almost lethal," Chris responded. Both were silent for a moment, and Chris rolled the water bottle around in his hands. "It's Joanna Tremaine, isn't it?"

Nate's head jerked up. "Why would you say that?" he asked, trying to look calm and collected on the outside. On the inside, everything was screaming, 'BE CAREFUL!!!'

Chris shrugged. "You told everyone tonight at dinner that Joanna didn't remember drinking regular water. My guess is that she drinks some designer water for dancers, and this is it." He held up the bottle in his hand for added effect.

"What's in it?" Nate asked quietly, not denying the fact that the water was indeed Joanna's.

Chris looked through the microscope. "From the looks of it, the water has at least two types of steroids mixed in with some strange sort of drug that I've never seen before." He frowned. "I could try and do some research on it, if you'd like," he offered.

Nate shook his head. "Thanks, he said, "but no thanks. I really don't want to know what's in it. All I need to know is that there's something in it that could hurt Joanna." He looked at his watch and saw the time. "Thanks for your help, Chris. I've got to get back. Morning is going to come so early."

Chris smiled knowingly. "You forgot, didn't you?"

Nate stopped in the midst of gathering some of the supplies. "About…?"

"Tomorrow is our free day," Chris prompted. "You can sleep in as long as you want, and then you can tell Joanna about the water."

Nate sighed, relieved. "Awesome. Thanks for reminding me."

Chris took the equipment from his friend's hands and told him, "It's okay. I got this. Go and get some sleep."

"Are you sure?" Nate asked, hesitating to leave.

"Positive," Chris assured him. As Nate turned to leave, he called, "And Nate?"

"Yeah?"

Chris licked his lips nervously. "It won't be easy," he explained. "If Joanna's been on this concoction for this long, she's going to have a hard time getting away from the habit. She may have stopped growing completely because of the steroids. She'll experience a lot of things that will tire her out, and she'll need you."

"Me?" Nate questioned.

Chris nodded. "She'll need you to help her through this. I don't know what it is, but you two seem almost connected somehow. It's like you're the only one who really understands her." He shrugged. "But what do I know? I'm just the scientist." He smiled at his friend. "Now go get some sleep."

Nate waved and trudged back to his cabin feeling as though he was in a daze now that he was alone. How was he going to explain this to Joanna? Would she believe him? He thought about how tiny Joanna was. Until Chris had mentioned height, Nate had never really noticed the size difference between him and Joanna, but now that he thought about it, she _was_ short for her age.

And the biggest worry of all that assaulted him was: would he be able to save her? Could he do it? Despite his star status, inside, he was really just a sixteen-year-old. Would he be mature enough to handle it? What if Joanna wasn't able to handle these drastic changes? Did she have enough strength to overcome this obstacle?

His musings had brought him to the cabin, and he stepped inside, tiptoeing into the main room and sitting down on his bed to pull off his shoes. The light flickered on, startling him. There sat Joanna, sweet Joanna, still awake and looking worriedly at him. "How did you hear me?" he asked, slightly dumbfounded.

"You're very bad at sneaking in," she told him, turning his own joke from a night ago back onto him. "Actually," she confessed, after a moment, "I was worried about you. I couldn't sleep, so I've been staring at the ceiling."

"I'm here now," Nate said gently. "You can go back to sleep. Tomorrow's a free day, so we can both sleep in if we want."

He was never sure afterwards why he did what he did. Perhaps it was because after finding out all about the lethal liquids she was drinking, he felt more protective of her. Maybe it was because her concern showed that she really cared about him. It could have been because she just looked so cute sitting there, propped up in bed waiting for him.

Whatever the reason was, Nate stood and took long strides towards her bed. He bent down and used his finger to gently tilt Joanna's chin up. Their eyes met for a split second before Nate kissed her, softly, as though she would break. And maybe she would have. Joanna's heart was filled with something she could only wonder about describing as love, since she had never experienced love before. After that first, brief thought, her mind went completely blank as Nate gently kissed her, using his finger to tilt her head slightly to the side as he deepened the kiss. Her fingers, on their own accord, crept to the base of his hairline as his hand traveled to her neck.

Nate was the first to pull away. He searched Joanna's face, looking for any signs of disgust or anger, but found none. She dipped her head, embarrassment flooding her cheeks, painting them a rose color. Nate drew in a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Good night," he whispered.

"Good night," she replied, nodding her head, off in her own little world. Nate wasn't sure whether to take that as a good sign, or a bad sign, so he chose the good sign and crawled into bed as Joanna mechanically flipped off the light.

Nate turned his back to Joanna and a huge grin spread across his face. He thought that his face might not be wide enough for such a smile! Sure, he had dated and kissed girls, but with Joanna, it seemed _right_. It was like they were meant to fit together perfectly. He heard a muffled giggle from the other side of the room and grinned even wider, if that was possible. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who felt that way!

The water bottle put a damper on his mood, though, and Nate promised himself that tomorrow, he would tell Joanna. Somehow, he would make her understand.


	13. Someone to Protect

Joanna opened her eyes to find sunlight streaming in through the window above her head. She stretched lazily, enjoying the sun, and looked at the clock. Almost nine forty-five. She could not remember the last time she had slept in that late. Had she _ever_ slept in that late? She looked over to find Nate curled up, still asleep and memories of last night came back to her, sending spontaneous shivers down her spine as she remembered the way he had looked at her, and how he had kissed her. She laid in bed for a few minutes, relishing in the fact that there was nowhere she had to be, and nothing that she had to do. It was a strange, yet enjoyable idea!

After a few minutes, Nate began to stir, and Joanna rolled over so that she was facing him. She smiled at him tentatively. Did he regret kissing her last night? Did she not do it right? But all her doubts were erased when he smiled back. "Morning," he said lazily. He stretched his arms above his head, arching his back and looking very much like a cat.

"Morning," she said in reply.

Nate sat up and ran a hand absently through his hair. "As it is a beautiful day, I say that we go swimming," he suggested.

Joanna nodded, smiling in agreement. She threw back the sheets and jumped out of bed, only to feel that familiar tightening in her chest. She bent down and picked up her water bottle, missing the wincing glance Nate gave her when she took a few deep gulps. "I'll get my bathing suit on and then we can go," she said. She grabbed her bathing suit from the hanger she had put it on last night and began to make her way to the bathroom.

Nate threw back his covers and his arms circled around her waist, swinging her around. "Nate!" she cried. "Put me down!"

And Nate did, but he kept his arms wrapped around her waist as he bent his head forward and down in order to kiss her. He felt Joanna shaking slightly, so he held her tighter. When he pulled away, her eyes were still closed, a smile playing on her lips. "You'd better go get changed," he whispered in her ear. Her eyes fluttered open and she obeyed, practically skipping into the bathroom.

Once they had both changed into their bathing suits, Joanna and Nate headed out to the dock. They found their other friends happily playing by the lake. Caitlyn, Jason, Kandace, Mitchie and Shane were all crowded into a canoe, going around in circles, laughing so hard they could hardly paddle. They waved when they spotted Nate and Joanna and Kandace stood up in the canoe, making it rock dangerously.

"Nate! Joanna!" she cried. "It's summer time!!!" She was so excited that she moved too quickly and the canoe toppled over, dumping its contents into the lake. Joanna let out a laugh as her friends came up spluttering.

"Come on in!" Mitchie called. "We found out that the water's great." She cast a mock-angry glance at Kandace, who simply shrugged.

"Last one to the group has to complete the other's warm up routine?" Joanna offered, mentally calculating the distance to reach the group in the water.

Nate grinned at her. "You're on." They took off running, flying down the dock, diving into the water and using their strongest strokes to reach the group. Joanna ended up winning by a very small margin. For the rest of the day, the friends played around in the water, only coming out for meal times.

The only damper on the day had been when Cambria had come down to the lake and had started harassing Joanna. Mitchie, who had classes with the girl and could not stand her, had said very sweetly, "The lake's very large. You should occupy some other part of it." Cambria, for once in her life, had been smart enough to take the advice given and had disappeared. "I hate that girl!" Mitchie had cried once Cambria was far enough away. "She thinks she's the best, and she's not."

After dinner, Shane and Mitchie went off to go practice their Final Jam routine, Caitlyn disappeared with her partner, Carter, and Jason and Kandace went off in search of the craft room so that they could build something special together for this year. Nate and Joanna decided to go back to the lake, so it was just the two of them on the dock, swinging their feet out over the water, that Nate said, "I think we need to talk, Jo."

The nickname made Joanna look up quickly, but she had a smile on her face as she repeated the name. "Jo," she said. "I like it." Nate waited, expecting her to say something more. She was gazing out over the lake when she said, "You know, you're the first boy I've ever kissed."

"I know," Nate replied.

"You do?" Joanna asked, turning to him. "Did I do it wrong?"

Nate had to chuckle. "No," he assured her. "I just noticed the hesitancy in the way you kissed. That's all."

Joanna looked out over the lake again, gazing off into the distance. "I've never let anyone get this close to me before," she confessed. "Not even my best friends."

"I know," Nate said again. "Neither have I."

"I feel drawn to you," Joanna said, "and I don't know why."

Nate saw this as his opportunity and he took it. "Jo," he said, loving the way he said her name. "I think we're drawn to each other because we were meant to help each other." He paused, looking down at his hands, searching for the right words to say. "I've been bothered lately about some things, so I asked a friend to do an experiment for me."

Joanna frowned. "An experiment of what?" she asked.

"Of your water bottles," Nate replied. She started to speak and he held up a hand. "I hope you don't mind me borrowing one, but I was concerned for you, and it turns out that I had a right to be. Those water bottles have steroids in them, Jo."

The news hit Joanna hard. She sat there, stunned for quite a while. "Steroids?" she asked, as though she had not heard him correctly.

"Yes," Nate said. He captured Joanna's limp hand in his and said seriously, "Joanna, I need you to tell me seriously if you knew about the steroids. Please." The utter seriousness in his voice brought Joanna back to reality. She was sitting here, next to someone who cared enough about her to check on a problem, and she was keeping a secret from him.

She inhaled and said, "I didn't know," she replied truthfully, "but I guess over the years I've wondered." She shook her head sadly. "It's a just punishment, though."

Nate was not expecting such a statement and he turned to her. "What? Why?"

She pulled her hand away from Nate's grasp and turned to look out over the lake at the dimming sun, gripping the dock with both of her hands. Her next words shocked Nate.

It's only fair because I killed my dad and sister."


	14. Someone to Explain

Some people use the analogy of running into a brick wall to express their astonishment. Others just stand there "frozen in time." Nate had no way of describing his astonishment when he heard those words come from Joanna's mouth. _"I killed my dad and sister."_ He glanced over at Joanna, only to find that she was looking out over the lake, a pained expression on her face. "What happened?" Nate managed to squeeze out. "Why do you say that?"

"Because I did," Joanna replied evenly. She closed her eyes and began speaking. "I had a twin sister," she explained. "She and I both danced at my mom's studio, but Jamie was always the best. Even at three, it was obvious that she was going to be a wonderful dancer. At the age of four, which is very unusual, she competed in her first feis and she won. Mom and dad were so proud." There was a wistful note in her voice and Nate noticed that her eyes held a faraway look as she went on. "The day of the accident, it was raining hard, but still, I begged to go. I begged to go to see dad's new dress shop and all the pretty dresses. Dad told me we could go another day, but I begged, and he consented. Of course, Jamie had to come too, and as we drove along the road that led to town, the rain blinded us and dad didn't see the farm equipment in the road. He crashed and the car wrapped around the tractor and the other things there. He and Jamie were sitting on the same side, and they both died."

Nate leaned over and touched the scar that ran along her jaw line. "What's this from?" he asked.

"The seatbelt," Joanna replied. She sat quietly for a moment, and then said, "Mom came to the hospital and visited me. She thought I was Jamie, and when I told her that it was Joanna, she walked out of the room. I guess the water came after that. She made it very clear, even to a four-year-old that she didn't want me. She wanted Jamie. Soon, I began training harder and harder in the studio, taking far too many classes. People said that my mother would work me into the ground, but she always told me that if I was going to be alive instead of Jamie, I might as well work as hard as Jamie would have worked. What I didn't realize until I was older was that my mom wanted me to quit. She hated the idea that I was advancing properly, amazingly, past what Jamie had done. She hated that people at the studio were praising me and congratulating me. She hated that I was good at dancing, so she worked me even harder."

Joanna laughed, bitterly, and Nate started at the sound. He'd never heard Joanna laugh like that before, and the action frightened him.

"I guess that's one way the water's actually helped me," Joanna remarked. "Without the steroids, I think I probably would have collapsed one day." She turned to Nate. "Now you see why I have to keep drinking it. It's a fair trade. A life for a ruined life."

Nate shook his head. "No," he said. "I don't see. Who told you that you'd killed your dad and sister?"

"My mom," Joanna replied. "And she was right. I was lucky that she didn't turn me in for murder."

Nate stared at her. "Joanna," he explained. "You didn't kill anyone. You didn't place the equipment there on purpose, did you?"

"Of course not!" Joanna scoffed.

"You didn't beg your dad to go to the shop, knowing that he and your sister would die before they got there, did you?"

"No," Joanna replied slowly, thinking over what Nate had said.

"Then you didn't murder anyone," Nate concluded.

"I didn't?" Joanna asked, hesitant to believe such good news.

"Nope," Nate replied. "If you'd planned it, then that would have been murder, but begging to go somewhere and it turning out for the worst does not mean that you're a murderer."

Joanna jumped up. "I didn't kill them!" she cried happily. She looked down at Nate, who was staring up at her, smiling. "I didn't kill them," she repeated.

And for the third time that night, Nate responded, "I know."

Without thinking, Joanna threw herself into Nate's arms and he held her tightly. After a while of silence, Nate felt Joanna shaking. He looked down and saw that she was crying. Not asking any questions, Nate held her closer, wanting to comfort her in any way he could. "I'm sorry," she whispered after a long moment. "It's just-I never…wow." She giggled slightly as she realized that she was making absolutely no sense. "I never let myself cry for them because I was sure that murderers couldn't cry for those they killed."

Nate closed his eyes tightly. How many other lies had this girl been told in her short life? "Cry all you want," he told her, stroking back her hair. "Sounds like you need it."

Both Nate and Joanna were silent for a long while, but it was Joanna who broke the silence. "I want to stop drinking the water," she said resolutely.

Nate looked down at her earnest face. "Well that's good," he told her, "But you can't just stop all at once. You've got to take it slowly."

Joanna leaned back, resting against Nate's chest as she thought. "I drink ten bottles a day," she mused, "and we have seven whole weeks left." She paused, mentally calculating once again. "Take two bottles off for this week, which brings the count down to eight, and then take off one bottle each week."

Nate glanced down at her. "Are you sure you can do that?" he asked her, indicating her resistance level.

"I'll have to try," she responded. "I won't let myself drink unless I absolutely need to. My chest can get as tight as it wants, but until I feel like I can't breathe, I won't drink."

"Sounds like a start," Nate said slowly. "But please don't try to do too much too soon. You do know what steroids and withdrawals can do to you, don't you?"

Joanna nodded. "That's why I'm so short," she responded sadly. "The withdrawals can be anything from severe depression to mood swings and loss of appetite." She smiled weakly at Nate. "My mom and I had a very long talk as to why you should never use steroids to help improve your dancing." She shook her head. "I think she needs to listen to her own advice."

"Are you sure you want to take away two bottles on the first week?" Nate asked, concerned.

Joanna nodded. "If I didn't end up killing my family, then I have nothing that I need to punish myself for."

Nate nodded, accepting her decision. "Okay then," he said, relieved. "We start tomorrow."

Joanna shook her head. "No," she said with a smile. "We start tonight."


	15. Someone to Save Her

A/N: **Hey everyone! Thanks so much for all your reviews and comments. They mean so much to me. I've been typing like crazy so as not to keep you all in too much suspense. Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**

Over the next couple of days, Joanna struggled, fighting against the addiction that had not been her choice. She struggled to pull herself out of bed in the mornings, for fatigue had made its permanent residence in her body. She struggled to fall asleep at night, and kept Nate up most of the night, but whenever she apologized, he brushed off her concern for him. "Don't worry about it," he would say. "I'm fine."

Sometimes, despite her resolution, Joanna would suddenly feel like she had to have some of that water, so she would slip her shoes on and head outside. Nate would follow her and bring her back, and once she had a grip on her emotions again, she would apologize once more for keeping him up. And once again, he would reply, "Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

Joanna knew that her friends wondered what was wrong with her, so she asked Nate to tell them. At first, they were all slightly wary around her, but soon, they were back to normal, and even a little more protective of their little friend. Brown was well aware that there was something wrong, but he respected Nate's assurance that it was being handled and did not inquire further.

Joanna hated the symptoms that kept coming back. She became a touchy person to be around, going from laughing one moment to crying the next. But no matter what, her friends stuck by her. They learned that when she got upset, if they came around to the cabin a couple of hours later, she was back to normal, and very remorseful.

But out of all her friends, Joanna relied mostly on Nate. He was always there for her, no matter how she was feeling. He forced the spoon between her lips when she felt that she could not eat. He dealt with her mood swings, insomnia and fatigue like he had been brought up around people with the same symptoms. When Joanna was restless, he would take her to the dance cabin to practice their routine, or take her on a walk, no matter what time of the day, or night, it was.

One night, at dinner, Joanna was met with an entirely new kind of symptom: Depression. She had been sitting next to Nate, holding his hand under the table, as was their custom, when suddenly, she felt a surge of every sad feeling possible wash over her. For the first time in her life, thoughts of suicide crept into her head, unwarranted. She could not fight the magnetism that drew her gaze to the knife sitting next to her plate no matter how hard she had tried.

"Jo!" Once again, Nate was there to save her. His voice broke the spell that seemed to have enchanted her, and she was herself once more. But from then on, Nate steered her away from sharp objects that might have brought those suicidal thoughts back into her head.

One night, Joanna could not sleep, so she and Nate had strolled outside to sit on the dock. With the moon shining brightly, the stars were quite enhanced and the two teens had lain on the dock next to each other, looking up at the stars. "What do you want from life?" Joanna had asked spontaneously.

Nate had taken a moment to process her question and had then responded, "I'd like to sing, go on tour, get married, and help other stars get started on their careers." He had glanced at Joanna. "You?"

"I'd like to go to the feis in August," she told him. "It's the last one to qualify for Worlds. I'd go to Worlds and win, get married, have a couple of kids, start my own dance studio, and live in a cozy little house with a rose garden and a picket fence."

Nate had chuckled. "American dream," he said in response. "Sounds very ideal, but what if that doesn't work out?"

Joanna had shrugged her shoulders. "If I don't get my picket fence and rose garden, I'll be okay. My main goal is to find someone that understands me and loves me, and vice versa, so much that I don't even notice where I am when I'm around that person. That's what I really want. The rest is just icing on the cake."

Nate had turned his head towards her and asked seriously, "Could you see yourself on a tour bus?"

And Joanna had returned his gaze. Evenly, she replied, "In a few years, yes."

After that conversation, Joanna and Nate had seemed even closer than before. They had gone everywhere together, and their friends exchanged happy glances behind their backs. But even if they had said something to their faces, Nate would not have minded. Joanna was the one person that he seemed connected to. Like a second part of himself in many ways. He was able to share anything with her, and not feel awkward or silly, and she likewise.

As days blended into weeks, Joanna fought and struggled with her yearning hatred for the steroid-filled water. One part of her being screamed disgust over the mere thought of drinking such a toxic drink that was even worse than soda, and the other side cried out that it tasted so wonderful, and gave her so much energy. She would miss that energy, wouldn't she? She needed that energy to qualify for Worlds, didn't she? And once again, it was Nate who saved her. He seemed to know just when her thoughts about drinking the water were returning, and he would make a comment like, "I wish I could be there at Worlds. I can't imagine how good you'll be without steroids holding you back."

And that comment made everything "click" in Joanna's head. The steroids had been holding her back. While her body was pushing her forward because of her talent, the steroids had been holding her back by her unwarranted addiction. After that realization, Joanna threw herself even more into breaking away from her habit. When she couldn't sleep, she would pretend to until Nate finally went to sleep, and then she would lie on her back, gazing up at the ceiling until her eyelids started to flutter closed and sleep claimed her for the night. She started to try and control the mood swings that kept everyone on tiptoe around her. When her body screamed out to cry at some slight tease, she forced herself to laugh, because in truth, it _was_ funny.

Nate noticed the difference and asked her what had changed. "My outlook," she had responded. "You showed me that there's no reason to want the steroids because really, all they do is hold me back from where I want to be." She had kissed him on the cheek, and then lightly on his lips. "What would I do without you?" she had asked, and by her tone, Nate knew that she meant it.

"The same thing I would have done without you," he had said. "We would have gone through life, never knowing one another, and then we would have been miserable for the rest of our lives."

"Mine probably would've been very short," Joanna had remarked sadly. "I have so many things that you've helped me with. If I don't make a list, I'll forget them all and be so ungrateful."

Nate had smiled, and they had returned to their practicing, because, after all, Final Jam was only two weeks away…


	16. Someone to Give

Practice. Exhaustion. Those two words became Joanna's vocabulary for the two weeks before Final Jam. She and Nate practiced and practiced their routine, determined to make it perfect. Exhaustion came after the practicing. Many times, they would walk out to the dock, lie down and fall asleep next to each other, too tired to climb the stairs to the cabin. Joanna smiled. This was the way summer should be, lying beside someone you care for, and vice versa.

* * *

Joanna was walking down one of the trails when she heard a cacophonous chorus of chatter. She increased her walking pace and turned the corner, only to find almost all the campers scattered around in groups and pairs, hugging their parents and siblings like they hadn't seen them in a lifetime. Joanna smiled as she watched a little girl run up to Chris, who swung her up in his arms and whirled her around, hugging her tightly. Moments like this made her heart ache for her dad and her sister.

"It makes you feel kinda sad, doesn't it?" asked someone behind her. Joanna turned and found Tess leaning against the building, looking at all the people gathered.

"Kinda," Joanna responded, "but you have a mom that loves you."

Tess nodded. "That may be true, but she's too busy to show it. If she comes for Final Jam, I'll be impressed. If she _stays_ for the whole thing, then she's not my mom."

Together, they watched the groups of campers and their families until the feelings of longing grew too much and they left to go to the kitchen. "Maybe we can get Mrs. Torres to make us something with chocolate in it," Joanna suggested. "That'll make us feel better."

Tess laughed. "This coming from someone who's a dancer!" she cried happily.

"Hey!"Joanna cried, laughing with her. "I'm skinny enough. If I want chocolate, I should have some chocolate every now and then." Both girls grinned and stepped into the kitchen.

They had just walked up behind Mitchie's mother when she turned, holding two large goblets of chocolate sundaes in her hands. "Sundaes?" she asked. At their looks of complete surprise, Mrs. Torres explained. "Mitchie was out there with her dad and she saw you two. She popped in to say that you guys might need some chocolate. It seems she was right."

Joanna smiled and took her goblet. "Have I ever told you that I love your daughter?" she asked, teasing.

"Yeah, me too," Tess added, smiling. The girls ate their sundaes in almost complete silence, each engrossed in their own thoughts. Finally, Tess broke the silence. "With tomorrow being Final Jam, have you and Nate perfected your routine?"

Joanna nodded and swallowed her big bite of sundae before she responded, "We've spent so many hours awake at night that we go over to the dance cabin and practice." She laughed. "I think we could do it in our sleep, if we could get any."

Tess grinned. "I hope mine's going to work," she told Joanna. "Ella, Margret and I have been working really hard, and we each have a solo in the song."

"I'm sure you'll do just fine," Joanna told her. "I've seen you guys practice."

"Thanks," Tess said. She looked at her watch and stood up. "I'm sorry Jo," she said, "but I've got to go."

Joanna waved her off. "Go, I'm fine. Have fun!" She turned back to her ice cream and was so engrossed in getting as much hot fudge as possible onto her spoon at one time that she didn't notice Nate come in through the side door.

He snuck up behind her and shouted, "Boo!" The spoon flew out of her hands as she screamed in surprise, but the joke was eventually on Nate because the spoon, and all the hot fudge on it, hit him in the face. There was utter silence in the room as the spoon slid comically off Nate's face and landed on the floor. Joanna had her mouth wide open, Nate looked extremely displeased, and Mrs. Torres and her kitchen help stood there, stunned. Tentatively, Joanna reached a finger out and wiped some of the fudge off Nate's face. She stuck her finger in her mouth and replied, "Mmm." She tried to control her giggles, but eventually they broke out, and everyone in the room, including Nate, was laughing so hard they had to hold onto something to keep themselves from falling down.

"Very funny," Nate said finally.

"Very!" Joanna wheezed in agreement, still trying to control her laughter. Mrs. Torres brought a dish towel for Nate and helped him wipe his face off.

"Thank you," he told her, and then turned to Joanna. "I had a present for you, but now I'm not so sure I want to give it to you."

"A present? For me?" she asked excitedly.

Nate nodded toward the almost-empty goblet. "If you're done with that, I can take you to it." Joanna bounced up off the chair and took the goblet to the sink.

"Thanks again, Mrs. Torres," she said, and then she and Nate disappeared out the door. Nate led Joanna down to the dock where they had spent so much time together and sat down, patting the spot next to him. "Is something wrong?" Joanna asked worriedly.

"Not really," Nate replied. He held out a small box that he had fished out of his pocket. "I thought this might come in handy."

Joanna frowned, intrigued. She opened the box to find a blue cell phone nestled inside wrapping paper. "Since you didn't have one," Nate explained, "I got you one. Now, we can keep in touch even when we leave camp."

Joanna looked down at the phone and felt tears well up in her eyes, and those tears had nothing to do with her mood swings. She threw her arms around Nate and whispered, "Thank you. I love it."

Nate smiled and used his favorite phrase. "I know." They sat there for a moment while he stroked her hair. "I don't want you to go tomorrow."

"Believe me," Joanna replied. "I don't want to go either." She sat up and looked at him squarely. "How can I live with someone who does stuff like that?" She shook her head and continued. "My birthday's coming up in a couple of months. Then, it's only one more year until I can move out and live on my own."

"You could always come on tour with us," Nate suggested. "Mitchie's going to come this school year since Shane has a tutor who can teach both of them, and Kandace even comes on tour with us sometimes. Let us know your feis schedule, and we can give concerts in the same cities your competitions are in so that you won't miss any of them."

Joanna smiled. "Sounds ideal," she said, "but completely impractical." She sighed and leaned back against Nate's shoulder. "We'll have to see. But for now," she held up the phone, "this is awesome. Thank you so much."

"I know that tomorrow's going to be hectic, so I wanted to make sure that I gave this to you today," Nate explained. "My family's coming in, and with my little brother, who knows when we might have time again to talk privately!"

Joanna smiled. "That's awesome though," she told him. "Your brother must love seeing you."

Nate smiled. "Yeah," he said, his eyes taking on a faraway look as he thought about his brother. "He's pretty cool."

* * *

That night, Joanna and Nate spent most of their time talking. Joanna was down to one bottle of her water a day, and she was well on her way to not needing that anymore. Restlessness still dogged her though, but tonight, she and Nate made the most of that symptom. They talked well into the night, trying to cram everything they had to say into the last few hours together. Nate promised to text Joanna as much as he could, and she promised to text back whenever her mom was not around. "You have to promise me," Joanna told him, "that if anything ever comes up and you need someone to talk to, you'll call me, no matter what time it is."

Nate promised. "You?" he asked.

She nodded. "I promise." With that taken care of, they promptly fell asleep, anticipating the long day ahead of them tomorrow, filled with many unexpected surprises…


	17. Someone to Jam

Joanna was shaking as she checked her costume in the bathroom mirror. She smoothed her trembling hands over the bodice of the green and black dress her father had made for her, smiling as she turned in a small circle. Every time she wore the dress, she felt like a fairy, ready to dance around the stage as though she had wings of her own. She loved the feel of the satin against her skin, but it was also a terrifying feeling, because Joanna knew that once she put the dress on, she would be under people's scrutiny. She took a deep breath. This was not just about her dancing, this was about Nate's. They would dance together, and the crowd would love them, or so he had said. There was a knock on the door and Joanna jumped. "Everything alright, Jo?" Nate asked.

"Yeah," she responded as light-heartedly as she could. "Why?"

"You've been in there an hour, and I was starting to get worried." Joanna clapped a hand over her mouth as Nate spoke those words to quell her laughter. She had been so worried that the time had completely flown by.

She unlocked the bathroom door and stepped out so that Nate, dressed in smart black pants and a dark green shirt, could see her. With her red hair unbound and curled, she looked like something from a picture book, and Nate's breath caught in his throat as he thought, _'She's also just the right size for a fairy.'_ Instead, he cleared his throat and said, "You look beautiful. That color suits you."

Joanna smiled at him appreciatively. "Thanks," she responded. "How much time do we have?"

Nate checked his watch. "Fifteen minutes. We'd better head over." He started to leave, but Joanna pulled on his sleeve and he turned around. She stood on her tiptoes to kiss him softly, and he kissed her back, putting his arms around her and pulling her closer. When they pulled apart, he asked, "What was that for? Not that I'm complaining or anything," he was quick to add.

Joanna smiled shyly. "There's going to be a lot of people out there, and I don't know if we'll get any free time afterwards, so I wanted to tell you how much I really love you." She bit her lip, wondering if she had gone too far by saying 'love.'

Nate pulled her close and hugged her tightly. "You don't know how long I've wanted to hear you say that," he said. "I love you too." He kissed her lightly and then said, "Come on. We'll put on a good show, and then we can talk later." Joanna nodded and followed him out the door.

The noise was deafening as Joanna and Nate walked out onto the stage, hand in hand. When Joanna saw the black shapes of the crowd, she gripped Nate's hand tighter, but he just calmly squeezed back, letting her know that there was nothing to be really afraid of. She stepped to the front of the stage and pointed her foot. Her turn would come first.

The music began, and Joanna silently thanked Caitlyn, who had mixed the music for their number. It started off as a very slow Irish melody, giving Joanna enough time to complete all the intricate dance steps that the music required. The audience watched her, some whispering, as her hard shoes tapped out a rhythmic beat. Abruptly, the music stopped with the common "zipping" sound, and Nate took the stage. The music had changed to a quick, almost frenzied tempo, and it was Nate's turn to shine. People applauded when Joanna joined in, manipulating her Irish steps to compliment Nate's breakdance and hip hop steps. Together, they effortlessly danced in unison as Shane controlled the lighting and the sound to make them look even better.

Everything had been going well. The audience was applauding, Joanna had managed her breakdancing steps effortlessly, and Nate had just spun her around when she felt a tightening in her chest that made her breath come in wheezing gasps. Her eyes widened and Nate observed what was going on, but he kept going, twirling her and giving Shane a discrete sign to turn the music up higher to cover the sound of Joanna's hard breathing. "Hang on," he whispered in her ear as she went down in a split and he pulled her back up. Only sixteen more bars of music.

Joanna gasped for air, but continued to dance, counting down the bars until she could stop. Twelve more bars. Nate flipped her over his shoulder and Joanna landed on her feet properly, but everything felt like she was moving in a haze. Seven more bars. Both Joanna and Nate completed a series of back flips at the same time to end the music in a split on the opposite sides of the stage. When the audience was sure that there was going to be no more dancing, they burst into applause, and even though Joanna felt like her body was void of any oxygen, she smiled, standing shakily to join Nate in the middle of the stage to bow to the audience.

Nate led her off stage, and as soon as they were away from the crowd, Joanna collapsed. Nate picked her up and set her down on a box backstage and pulled out her water bottle. He handed it to Joanna and she grimaced. "I hate having to use this," she whispered as she took a drink.

"I know," Nate told her, "but this is the first time today you've had to use it. That's great." He tilted her chin up and gave her a kiss. "You were awesome out there. Jamie would've been proud."

Joanna looked up, startled. "You think?" she asked.

"To see her sister up there, wowing the crowd? Yeah, she would've been proud," Nate responded.

They had little time to talk because Shane rushed backstage. "Hey," he said. "I left Caitlyn at the sound booth. Is she okay?" he asked Nate, nodding to Joanna.

"She's fine. Just the usual," he responded. "When are you and Mitchie singing?"

"After Caitlyn and Carter do whatever it is they're doing," Shane said. "Tess and the other girls are up after these dancers finish," he said, motioning to the two girls who were doing a sort of ballet/hip hop mixture.

Joanna stood suddenly, startling both boys. "I'm fine," she said, putting up her hands to ward off any help. "I have an errand to run." She slipped out the door and walked as quickly as she could to the main entrance of the auditorium. Inside, she scanned the large crowd, looking for someone in particular. And she found her, sitting halfway off the edge of one bench, ready to go if someone should need her. Joanna crept up to her, trying not to draw attention to herself, and tapped the woman on the shoulder.

T.J. Tyler turned around. "You were great," she whispered as Joanna bent down to talk into her ear.

"Thanks," Joanna responded. She watched as T.J. pulled out her cell phone, checking for any texts that she might be unable to hear due to all the noise in the room. Seeing her opportunity, Joanna said, "You know, I'm no one special, but if I may say, without you taking offence, there's a ton of difference between telling someone that you love them, and showing them that you love them." T.J. looked up, started that this piece of philosophy was coming from a young girl. Joanna tactfully looked down at the phone and then looked back at Tess's mother. "It would mean a lot to her if you stayed." T.J. looked back towards the stage where the two dancers had just finished and then looked back at Joanna. With a smile, she turned her phone completely off.

Feeling a surge of happiness flow through her, Joanna crept back out of the auditorium and walked back to the room where Nate was still waiting for her. "Where'd you go?" he asked curiously.

"I had someone I needed to talk to." The smile on her face told Nate that whatever she had done had been a good thing, so he didn't push her for details. Anyway, Tess, Ella, and Margret were up next. Joanna joined him at the curtain so that she could watch. She saw her friend's face light up with happiness when she saw her mom, and the smile only brightened when, at the end of the song, T.J. Tyler was still there, clapping proudly for her talented daughter.

Tess and the other two girls came backstage, and Tess went up to Joanna, planting herself in the dancer's way. "I know it was you," she said. "What did you do?"

Joanna shrugged. "I just told her that there was a big difference between saying and doing. That's all."

Tess hugged Joanna tightly. "Thank you," she whispered.

Further talk was useless since Caitlyn was up next, then Shane and Mitchie were up, and then Brown was announcing the winners of each category. Shane and Mitchie won for duets, Tess, Ella, and Margret won for trios, Caitlyn and Carter won for Track Mixing, and a startling announcement was made. Cambria had won for the soloist group. Joanna groaned loudly. "I'll never hear the end of _that_ on the ride home," she complained.

"And finally," Brown announced, "the winners of our new dance program are…Nate and Joanna!" The audience erupted into loud clapping as Nate led Joanna out to center stage. "Congrats you two," Brown said. "You deserved it." He gave them a pointed look which told them that he didn't just mean their dancing, he meant what they had been going through all summer.

"Thank you," Joanna responded earnestly. She and Nate held up their trophy and led the way backstage, where a very unpleasant sight greeted them. There stood Sara, Cambria's mom, with her hands on her hips, looking very displeased.

"Joanna," she said curtly. "Get your bags. We're going home."

The suddenness with which the command greeted Joanna made her stand still for a moment. She left the building obediently, making little motions with her hand to have Nate come with her. Together, hand in hand, they ran to their cabin and there, they hugged each other tightly. "I'm going to miss you," Joanna whispered.

"We _will _see each other again," Nate said resolutely. "Jo, will you think about going out with me?"

Joanna looked alarmed. "Right now?" she teased. "But I have to go."

Nate grinned, grateful that she was trying to make their parting as easy as possible. "No, not right now," he said, "but if you agree to go out with me, then I have a right to contact you. I can't just _not_ call and text my girlfriend, now can I?"

"Girlfriend?" Joanna asked, her heart beating faster at the thought.

Nate nodded seriously. "If you want to be, the title's all yours."

Joanna hugged him one last time. "Then I'll take it." Nate smiled and helped her carry her bags out of the cabin, up the trail, and out to where all of her friends had gathered to say goodbye after hearing that she was leaving abruptly.

"You promise to call me?" Caitlyn asked as she hugged Joanna tightly.

Joanna nodded. "I have your number in my phone," she whispered.

She moved to Shane, who gave her and big hug. "Don't hurt him," he said seriously. "And take care of yourself."

Joanna cast a glance at where Nate stood, watching her. "I won't" she replied honestly.

Kandace was trying hard not to cry as she and Jason gave Joanna a group hug. "I'll miss you," she told Joanna. "Promise to call me?"

"You and Jason are both in my phone," Joanna promised her.

Last, was Tess. Joanna hugged her tightly and whispered, "You have an amazing mom."

Tess nodded, hugging Joanna back. "I also have amazing friends," she said, fighting back tears. "You have my number. Text me soon."

Joanna nodded, and turned to leave, but ended up running back to hug Nate tightly one last time. "I'll text you tonight," she promised.

"Joanna!" Sara called. "Let's go!" So Joanna had to leave. She waved to everyone and climbed into the backseat of the car, letting Cambria have the front seat. For the ride home, she pretended to be asleep, and no one questioned her. It gave her time to organize her thoughts before she saw her mom again. How would she act like she still drank the water without actually drinking it? Would her mom somehow find out about Nate? Questions like that kept Joanna occupied while she "slept." When Cambria woke her up after they had pulled into the apartment driveway, Joanna stepped out on to the uneven pavement, already wishing that she was back at camp.

She thanked Sara and Cambria for the ride and trudged up the steps to her apartment, her bags feeling like they weighed a ton. Did everyone feel like this when they returned to something they didn't want to return to? If they did, then Joanna pitied them. She knocked lightly on the door and could hear a shuffling inside. A bolt was drawn back and then her mother was standing at the open door, saying, "Darling! So good to have you home!"

It was going to be a long year before Joanna could move out.


	18. Someone to Compete

"Faster, Joanna! Don't you get it? Faster!" Joanna's already-curled hands curled into even tighter fists. Right now, she was thankful that curling her hands into fists was the proper way to dance. She forced herself to concentrate and she used her aggression to pound her feet on the studio floor. "Better," her mom admitted. "Have some water." She tossed Joanna a water bottle and went to talk to another dancer that had showed up for her lesson. Taking this unexpected opportunity, Joanna slipped into the bathroom and poured half of the bottle down the drain. Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket, she found another text from Nate. As always, her heart sped up when she read his messages.

"Hey! How's it going?" the text read.

"Fine," Joanna texted back. "U?" She smiled to herself. Over the past months, after having won the feis and qualified for Worlds, she had gotten much better, and faster, at texting. Her phone vibrated and Joanna flipped the cover open.

"Just finished a concert in MI."

"How was it???" Joanna and pressed SEND, waiting.

"Fine, but not as good as if u were here." Joanna shook her head. He was so sweet. Another text came in and she opened it. "How's training going??"

Joanna sighed, and her fingers quickly pressed the correct keys. "Hard. I'm trying not to drink any water."

Nate texted back quickly. "Good. Sorry, but I gotta go. Luv u."

Joanna flushed the toilet so that no one out in the studio would get suspicious and texted back. "Luv u 2." She snapped the cover shut, shoved the phone into her pocket, and turned on the facet to "wash her hands." She stuck her face under the cold stream and breathed in deeply. Both she and Nate had already turned seventeen, and she was literally counting down the days until she could move out and live on her own without a parental guardian.

Drying her face off, Joanna stepped back out into the studio and braved another two hours of dance, only because her cell phone kept vibrating, letting her know that her that her friends still cared about her. She would return to the apartment, weary and achy, and answer all of her texts in the solitude of her room. That was one domain that her mother never entered.

Once the two hours ended, Joanna's mother told her, "Go back home and register for the feis. You're ready as you'll ever be." She tossed her hair over her shoulder in a flippant manner. "Jamie would've been ready long before this."

Joanna felt her fists curl once more, and it had nothing to do with dancing. Ever since she had come home, her mother had ridden her even harder than usual as to what Jamie would or wouldn't have done, had she been here. Fighting for control, Joanna replied tartly, "Well I'm not Jamie." Since the studio was within walking distance of the apartment, Joanna walked home instead of trying to hitch a ride with some other dancer. She relished the alone time she had, and had perfected the art of texting while walking. She answered some of her patient friends' texts and let herself into the apartment to register online for the feis. Once the registration was completed, Joanna surfed around on the internet for new hard shoes. She bought a pair from her usual supplier and was assured that they would be at her front door in a nice brown box within a week. Since Worlds was not until Easter weekend, that arrangement left Joanna with plenty of time to break the shoes in. Next came plane tickets to Ireland, and those were easily purchased. Joanna shivered with excitement at the thought of getting to see her old friends again.

Her phone vibrated and she flipped open the cover to find a text from Nate. "When R U going to Worlds???"

She texted back, "Over Easter weekend."

"Cool," he texted back. Their conversation went on until Joanna heard her mom walk through the door and no longer felt safe enough to text. She said goodnight to Nate and put her phone on the charger so that if someone should call her at night, the phone would still be well charged. She leaned back onto her bed and closed her eyes. This was going to be a long four months.

* * *

The flight to Ireland four months later only made Joanna more restless as she squirmed in her seat in between walking sessions. Once she and her mom were back in familiar territory, Joanna found her friends waiting for her. They practically pounced on her, and Joanna managed to spend most of the day with them before going off and practicing with her mother for the upcoming feis.

But no matter what experienced comfort her friends had to give her, the night before the Worlds, Joanna called Nate. He answered on the first ring. "Hey," he said, sounding completely awake. "I figured you'd be calling." The warmth of his voice betrayed him. He was happy to hear from her.

"I was calling to collect on my call-you-whenever-I-need-to promise," she explained. "Did I wake you up?"

Nope," Nate said cheerily. "What's up?"

"My nervousness, the level of competition, the number of dances-need I go on?"

Nate's laugh traveled through the phone, expressing happiness even though he was thousands of miles away. "I get the point. Look, Jo, you'll do just fine. If I may give you one piece of advice though, before you start dancing, scan the crowd."

"What?" Joanna asked, shocked. "That's unheard of! I can't do that! I'll freak out."

Nate explained, "If you scan the crowd, you can find someone who is smiling at you, and then you'll feel all better and more confident."

Joanna sighed. "I'll try," she told him honestly.

"Good," he said. "Now, how's that water been doing?"

Joanna smiled, even though Nate couldn't see the gesture. "I haven't drunk a single sip for four months." She laughed. "I've been keeping track."

"That's awesome," Nate responded. Joanna heard something in the background, and then Nate said, "I'm sorry Jo, but I gotta go. Remember what I told you about the crowd!"

"Okay!" she laughed. "Bye!" She lay back on her pillow, holding the phone to her chest. Amazingly, she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

The alarm clock was the next sound Joanna heard. She bolted out of bed and ran in to take a shower. Putting her wig and undergarments on, Joanna slipped a pair of pants and a shirt over everything and ate some breakfast, preparing for the day. On the drive to the venue, her mother never stopped firing advice at her, and her friends offered encouraging advice, but the only advice that Joanna really remembered was, "Scan the crowd."

Worlds was the biggest venue Joanna had ever been to. She had thought some feiseanna to be huge, but they were nothing compared to Worlds! The venders were lined up and Joanna let her gaze sweep over them, marveling once again that you could find literally everything you could want there at the venders' stalls. Also, the competitors had changed. Joanna had always been shy and reserved, and most people just left her alone, but these girls stared her down intently, hoping to intimidate her. And it was working.

By the time Joanna's turn came to mount the stage, she was shaking with fright so much that she was sure her dress was vibrating. For the umpteenth time, Joanna wished that she was like her sister. Jamie would never have been so frightened. _Scan the crowd._ The advice made her look up from where she had fixed her stare on the judges. Her eyes roamed over the large audience, not noticing any one face in particular, until she caught sight of a hat. She looked closer, and there, leaning against the stage with a hat perches on his head to hide his short curls, stood Nate. He beamed at her, and she grinned back.

Having him there gave her a new sense of confidence. When the bar struck, she leapt up into the air and began one of the dances that she had worked so hard on. By the time she had finished, flawlessly, she was out of breath, but beaming. She bowed to the judges and to the musicians, as was polite, and then she excited the stage. The rest of her dances went the same way and afterward, she ran backstage. Nate found a way back to her and she leapt into his arms. He twirled her around and then kissed her for a long moment.

"I've wanted to do that for months," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers.

"Me too," Joanna replied. "I'm so glad you're here!" Further conversation was cut short when someone stepped up on stage to announce the winners. Joanna and Nate scurried out to the front and Nate left Joanna so that she could stand with the other dancers.

"Joanna Tremaine," the adjudicator called. "Miss Tremaine, congratulations on winning all of your dances." Joanna's mouth fell open as the crowd applauded her. The adjudicator helped her onto the stage and asked, "Is there anything you'd like to say?" he asked, tilting the mic in her direction.

Joanna smiled right at Nate as she said, "I scanned the crowd." No one else knew what she was talking about, and Joanna really didn't care at that moment. She thanked the adjudicator and stepped down from the stage into Nate's arms, ignoring the fact that her mother was around there somewhere. She felt a tap on her shoulder and detangled herself from Nate's arms so that she could turn around. The adjudicator stood there, looking rather embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Miss Tremaine," he began, "but it has come to our attention that you might have used performance enhancers to win this competition. We need to run some tests."

Joanna glanced at Nate and he immediately understood. Her mother had to be behind this new development. "Sure," she replied confidently. "I have nothing to hide." The adjudicator led the way and Joanna took a few tests to make sure that she had not used the rumored steroids.

While Joanna was waiting patiently with Nate sitting next to her, her mom came blustering in. "How could you, Joanna!" she fumed. "I thought that I'd taught you better than this! Steroids! I'm ashamed of you!"

"I wouldn't speak so quickly," said the adjudicator, coming back into the room. "Our tests reveal that Miss Tremaine did not take any sort of steroids or performance enhancers of any kind."

But- but, that's not possible!" Joanna's mom said without thinking.

"Excuse me?" the adjudicator asked, shocked.

Joanna spoke up for the first time. "What has always seemed to amaze me about you, mom," she said, "is that on one hand, you worked me so hard so that I would be the best, but on the other hand, you poisoned me with steroids so that when I got to the top of the ladder, you could bring me right back down in such humiliation that I could never dance again." She slammed her palm down on the chair she was sitting on. "You couldn't stand it that I was going to do something that Jamie would never have the chance to do. If Jamie didn't have the chance to win at Worlds, well then neither would I. Why can't you just be proud of me? Am I so terrible?"

Her mom never had the chance to answer, because the adjudicator led her away. Joanna turned to Nate, who had been silently, yet proudly watching the whole exchange. "I could see myself on a tour bus," she told him, referring to his long ago question about her future. He smiled and kissed her in response and guided her out the front door…

**A/N: Only one more chapter to go! I feel sad, and yet I feel a sense of pride that I've made it through this story. Thank you to everyone who's reviews have kept me going!!**


	19. Someone to Live

**A/N: Here it is! The last chapter! Hope you enjoy!**

"And 5,6,7,8…" Joanna counted off with the music. She watched all the little girls in front of her leap into action, their little legs trying to keep up with the music. She smiled as she watched her own daughter dance around, red hair streaming out behind her. Pride for her daughter's evident ability washed over Joanna and she clapped for each and every one of the girls as they finished their dance and bowed to her, pretending that she was a judge. "Very good, all of you," she responded. "Go and get a drink."

When she turned from watching them all scamper off, she found Nate leaning against the railing, watching her watch their daughter. She walked over and kissed him and the little boy standing next to him. Nate tried to hug her and she protested. "Nate, don't! I'm all sweaty and gross." Her husband always looked perfect, and she hated to mess up his image.

"I don't care," he said, pulling her close. "I'll hug you any time."

"Me too!" Nathan piped up, anxious to get his mother to notice him as well.

"You too?" Joanna asked, swinging the little boy up into the air, making him giggle. "I feel like the luckiest girl in the world." She hugged her son and then put him down, turning back to her class. "Alright everyone," she said. She noticed her daughter talking excitedly with her friend, Mary, and called out to her. "Hannah! Join the group." The two little girls ran hand in hand to stand with the group. Joanna bent down so that she could talk to the children at eye level, something her own mother had never done to her. "You all have done such a great job today," she prefaced. "I want you to go home and work this week on pointing your toes the right way, okay?"

"Yes Mrs. Black," they all chorused.

"Wait a minute!" Joanna called. "We have a problem here. What are you supposed to call me?"

The little group giggled and said in unison once more, "Yes Miss Joanna."

Joanna smiled. "That's much better. Now, all of you go and grab a pencil. You've earned one today." The little girls scampered over to the jar where Joanna kept a large supply of pencils just for such occasions as good behavior and excellent dancing required and began discussing the colors. Writing was just beginning to be taught to these girls, so pencils were a novelty.

Joanna called her daughter over and bent down once more to be on her level. "I just want you to know how proud I am of you," she said seriously. "You did a wonderful job today."

Hannah smiled brightly, her little teeth gleaming as she replied, "Thanks, mommy." She twisted her hands in her dance skirt and then added, "I love you."

Joanna drew her daughter into a hug. "I love you too." Over Hannah's little shoulder, Joanna's eyes locked with Nate's and he nodded, understanding. Joanna deemed it imperative that she establish that she loved her children very much, since her mother had never expressed those sentiments towards her, but she was also firm about obedience. She expected her children to obey her and to listen, and in return, they received a mother who loved them so much she thought that her heart might burst at times because it was so full.

"Mommy?" Hannah asked, breaking their hug.

"Yes?" Joanna asked.

"Can I go play with Mary for a little while?" Joanna nodded, gazing after her daughter as she ran off to play with her friend, one dance shoelace trailing behind her. Joanna sighed. They grew up so fast. She had never understood that concept until she had experienced parenthood, but it was true. She blinked and her two babies had grown into five-year-old miniatures of her and Nate.

She looked back at Nate from across the room and he nodded. "I know," he said, using his favorite phrase. Joanna smiled, so grateful that she had a husband who loved her and knew her so well that many times, they didn't even have to speak to understand each other. Finally, she had found someone to understand her.

For a few minutes, she worked with Nathan, who was also good at dancing, although he leaned more towards music, like his father. She mostly played around with him at the studio, since it was up to her to lock up. After all, she _was_ the owner, and she could lock up whenever she wanted.

Mary and her mom left the studio, so Hannah deemed it a good time to get ready to leave, the loss of her friend being a devastating blow. After all, it would be a whole sixteen hours until they saw each other at school again. The little girl took off her shoes and stuffed them into her little dance bag, coming to Nate for him to tie her tennis shoes.

The family left the studio and Nate drove them down the street and around the corner of the little town they lived in. There, with the new tour bus sitting in the driveway, was Joanna's cozy house, rose garden, and picket fence, just as she had once described it.

And to her, it was the best house in the world. No, it was not the largest, or grandest house, but it had been built for her, by someone who loved her so much, and every detail had been discussed with their heads bent together, silly smiles on their faces as they had planned their first home. Both her children had been born into this house one night around midnight, and it had much evidence of a child-filled house with toys in the front yard and all.

Nate was gone a bit, touring with the band, producing other aspiring singers' albums, and doing interviews, but he was always home for most of the time, having cut down on the lengths of the tours and the frequencies of the interviews so that he could spend as much time as he could with Joanna and his children.

So each had received what they had wanted from life, but this story had no 'finis' because real love stories never have endings.

**A/N: Well, that's the end. What did you think??? I hope you liked it! Thanks for reading!**

**Cr8vgrl**


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